


I Can Be Your Hero Baby (Just Let Me Get My Sword)

by CalamityK



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Not a crack fic, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, Time Travel, Witchcraft, a musketeer by moolinght au because i CAN, all the goods, but isnt he always, detective!louis, for once, i cant tag too much or ill spoil it so ill stop, im gonna stress this again NOT a crack fic, louis should have emotional whiplash from how he changes moods in 0 seconds, musketeer!harry, nick is awful, this fic just kind of happened, zayn and liam are a bit eccentric alright, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 17:56:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4189467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalamityK/pseuds/CalamityK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Musketeer?!” the man snorts, ignoring his hand, “Yeah right, you’re a Musketeer and I have a fat bottom!”</i>
</p><p> </p><p><i>Harry observes the man’s body, letting his hand drop, and decides that he has a very nice bottom indeed, “Your backside is not in the least lacking, this is true.”</i><br/>~~~~~~~~~~~~<br/>Or that AU where Louis is a private investigator with London's biggest crime boss out for his head, and Harry is the Musketeer he accidentally calls through time to save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can Be Your Hero Baby (Just Let Me Get My Sword)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pumpkinpiechey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkinpiechey/gifts).



> Anon said: "can you do a larry with either witchcraft or time travel because no one does those"  
> AND I SAID WHY NOT BOTH.
> 
> [Alix](alixrs.tumblr.com) beta'd all fifty seven pages of this monster in like two days so goooooooo Alix!!!!! I'd also like to shout out to my other two betas [Jenna](drunkenlarry.tumblr.com) & [Tyler](harrysgettinghead.tumblr.com) for being hella awesome and putting up with me.
> 
> This fic swallowed me whole for like two weeks solid. I'm already considering a sequel, but i'm still writing a big fic and doing the fall larry exchange so idk how soon that'll happen.

He hates Halloween, and he hates being a prisoner in his own office. He’s not sure what between hell and earth possessed him and made him think it was a good idea to get the goods on one of London’s most organized crime bosses. His ego was obviously swelling his head, and probably going to get it cut off. Reveling in the thought of himself as England’s most prestigious P.I. had landed him in the ickiest of situations. Right now he feels like reverting back to Louis Tomlinson, tiny, unknown lad from Doncaster.

He paces so anxiously he’s bound to wear a hole in the floor of his office, pausing every minute or so to peer out the foggy windows at the street below. Nothing changes, but he continues to look through the gray fog coating the street, and watch bits of paper blow over the pavement. There’s a large black Land Rover sitting patiently by the curb. If Louis attempts to leave the driver will tail him. If he tries to go to the bank and get in his locked box, retrieving his much needed evidence, he’d have the man’s gun in his face when he came out. And if he tries to make it to his shitty flat….he shudders at the thought of what would be waiting for him. It doesn’t matter where he goes, they’ll be waiting. Louis’s not even sure he should try to make it to his car. Knowing them it’s loaded down with explosives and he’d go up in smoke almost as soon as he turned the key. He can clearly picture that headline. ‘Louis Tomlinson, Celebrated Private Eye Blown to Bits _._ ’

_Fuck._

Right as he glances out the window for the billionth time his cell rings. He pulls it from his pocket with steady hands. “Office of Tomlinson P.I. services.” he monotones.

“I need to speak with Detective Tomlinson.”

“Uhm,” Louis falters for a moment. “This is his office temp may I take a message?” he lies. He doesn’t know who is on the other end of the line and it could easily be someone in the party that’s out to get him.

“It’s urgent.” The man says, static crackling through his voice. “I’ve found myself in a spot of trouble.”

“Join the party.”

“What?”

Louis clears his throat, “Sorry, Mr. Tomlinson isn’t taking new clients. He’s taking a leave of absence. Try the investigations office over on fourth I hear they have stellar ratings.”

He hears the click signaling that the man hung up on him. He almost feel guilty. All of his clients start with a call for help, but he’s no longer in a good position to provide it. He has a fantastic reputation in London, private hero and all that.

But at this particular moment he feels like he may be the one in need of saving. He just has no access to any heroes. It’s not like he was planning on ending up here. He never expected being in any situation he couldn’t handle on his own. He stumbled head first into danger completely on accident.

He’d been hired by a guy who was hoping to catch his high dollar life partner, Nick Grimshaw, cheating on him. He was supposed to get evidence of the affair and turn it over to the guy so he could break it off with Grimshaw and probably run away with a large chunk of cash. Louis had gotten evidence alright, only the evidence didn’t point to an affair. It pointed to Nick Grimshaw being the head of a large criminal network that frequently put hits out on people. Well known people. The tape Louis had acquired held a recorded phone conversation of Nick himself putting out one of those many hits. He told the life partner of course. That was his first mistake. He had just been trying to get the man out of danger, but of course love is blind. The man immediately took it to Grimshaw, ratting that Louis had it and maintaining their undying love now that he knew he wasn’t living with a cheater, just a notorious crime boss. So much better.

So now they were off being love birds on some remote island and Louis was walking around with a target on his back, and nine or ten men following him around ready to aim. He could call the cops, but he has no doubt half of them are in Nick’s back pocket, eating crime crumbs out of his bloody hands. He’d have no way of knowing which cops were the good guys and which ones were on payroll.

He steps over to the window. The London City bus is stopped in front of Niall’s Pub downstairs. As he watches the people pile on and off an idea strikes him.

Nick’s man in the Land Rover is watching _his_ front door, and his car. They can’t see what he’s doing inside, they’d be none the wiser if he were to walk down the back stairs and through the side entrance straight into Niall’s. He could leave right out the front of the pub, blending in with the partygoers, and hop a bus.

“Solid.” He mutters to himself. He quickly goes to the office closet to examine the Halloween costumes his actual office temp Perrie had brought in for him to look through. He actually finds the perfect one in the pile meant for her. He sheds his clothes as swiftly as he can and pulls a disco dress over his head. He un-bags the long brown wig that goes with it and places it on his head the best he can. Luckily there are shoe covers meant to look like go-go boots so he can remain in his dress shoes. He places glittery sunglasses on his nose to complete the look.

With a quick glance in the mirror Louis is surprised and relieved to see he passes as a girl. A flat chested rather lanky girl, but a girl all the same. He tucks his handgun into the faux boot and calls it done. The next bus should be arriving shortly, he saw them come and go in front of the pub every night. He usually turns his nose up at the idea of getting on one with a bunch of drunkards, but not tonight.

Louis takes his time leaving, moving quietly down the hall and being gentle when he opens the door to the stairs. He descends and taps hard on the door to the bar. It’s a back entrance that no one has access to but Louis so it’s locked. After a few more sharp raps Niall tugs it open immediately giving Louis a once over.

“Of all the things I’ve seen tonight Lou, this takes the cake.” Niall says grinning.

Louis kicks him in the shin and shoves past him. “Shut up, Niall. I’m just another lass in a dress. Louis Tomlinson was never here tonight. You never saw him. Capisce?”

Niall raises an eyebrow and tosses the towel he’s been using to wipe glasses with over his shoulder. “You’re in deep shit, huh?”

“The deepest.”

“Anything I can assist you with other than forgetting you’re here?” Niall asks. Louis knows he’s sincere but he doubts Niall could take on the thugs that Louis is probably going to face eventually and live.

“Pour me the strongest drink you have and act like you would around any pretty lady you just made the acquaintance of.” Louis replies.

Niall shakes his head lightly but ushers Louis onto an open bar stool. He plunks down two shot glasses and fills them with the ease of practice. “Can’t believe my favorite hero needs a hero.”

“No one is as surprised as myself, trust me.” Louis says, hopping onto the stool and downing the first shot. He can’t help but scan the crowd with his peripheral for hit men.

“You know a lot of your problems would be simpler if you had a business partner.”

“It’s nice of you to offer, Horan, but I’m a bit of a lone wolf.” Louis counters.

Niall wipes down the bar studiously. “I’m fine where I am, thanks. But you know I’m right in the end. The work you do is less dangerous with two.”

“You know that rhymed. Are you doubling as a prophetic poet as well as a bartender?” Louis teases him as he downs the second shot. It’s not as strong as he’d like but that’s okay. He needs to keep his focus.

The shriek of brakes can be heard even over the sounds of the dwindling crowds as the bus pulls up outside. Louis smiles at Niall and sits the glass down. “Looks like my ride’s here.”

“The bus? Where you popping off to?” Niall questions skeptically.

“See, Nialler, I can’t tell you that without having to kill you.” He says as he climbs down off the stool. “Gotta split.”

He hurries to the front entrance. The angle the bus is stopped at blocks the view of the Land Rover across the street. Louis puts himself in the middle of the people clambering onto the vehicle and holds his breath until he’s seated safely and it’s moving.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bus is heading into Tadley, and since he has no clue where in the bum-fuck hell that even is, Louis gets off at the next terminal. He gets on another one heading in the complete opposite direction. He doesn’t really have any options for places to head, save one. He can’t run home to Doncaster. His mother would be ecstatic to see him of course, but she’d be less inviting to any goons that show up after him. He doesn’t really have any friends that aren’t inside the city, except two. Zayn and Liam live comfortably in a large creepy manor somewhere out in the woods, effectively in the middle of nowhere. And damn Louis if that’s not exactly where he’s going to go. It’s the only option he can think of where Nick can’t track him down.

Zayn and Liam are a bit eccentric. Okay, a lot eccentric. Louis would rather call them that than what most people do. Most people would say Zayn and Liam are one-hundred-and-ten percent off their collective rocker, all the nuts and bolts in their brains screwed loose and rattling. Bonkers. Bat shit. He remembers the fond childhood nicknames, Coo-coo and Culty. Interchangeable because the terms describe both. But eccentric is the description Louis will stick with for now.

The thing is, Liam and Zayn are both good people, they’re just hopelessly stuck in witchdom, or warlock-dom, rather. The type that tote around old spell books, the kind of tomes that are in families for generations and are old, dusty, and falling apart. Health hazards, really. Louis had looked through Zayn’s once, but when Zayn tried to convince him to try something and ‘unleash powers of his own’ Louis shut the thing and never inquired again.

He wonders if they have a spell to transplant him out of the mess he’s in.  He chases that thought away with a shake of his head. Louis doesn’t need wayward hocus-pocus, he needs time and a way to get to that recording, and then to a judge or prosecutor without being shot. There’s no way he’s safe until Grimshaw is rotting in a cell. Even if Louis just gives the tape over to Nick, Nick will kill him. He knows too much.

So Zayn and Liam’s house of voodoo it is. Louis shivers at the thought. It’s Halloween, and he’s going to be spending it with two grown men that think they’re wizards, or warlocks, whatever. He banishes all thoughts and closes his eyes, attempting to sleep through the bus ride.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hi, Zayn. Good to see you.”

Zayn Malik stands in the stone doorway and blinks down at Louis who’s on the front steps. Zayn is dressed elegantly in all black robes with a silver moon painted out to the side of one of his caramel eyes. His hair is swooped back from his forehead and held up effortlessly into a quiff. Probably gelled with magic, Louis thinks smugly. Some of Zayn’s many tattoos are peaking out where the robes are bunched up his arms, and swooping low on his chest. Louis sees some new additions that Zayn hadn’t had the last time they’d saw each other. “How’s my favorite wicked witch?” Louis asks.

“Warlock.” Zayn corrects automatically, still looking at Louis’s disco dress.

“As much as I appreciate being gawked at, you could let me in, it’s bloody freezing out here.” Louis says. “I don’t know how girls dress like this in this weather.”

Zayn just lifts one dark eyebrow and shuffles to the side. When Louis steps inside, he sees the place hasn’t changed. All the furniture is out of date and ancient, the lighting is dim, creepy, and everything seems to have clawed feet. He can smell candle wax and the scent of incense and sage. Mostly he can smell must and mold. They really need to let some light in once and a while.

“Well.” Zayn says, more of a statement than a question as he cross his arms expectantly and leans back against the door frame.

“Well, I’ve come to visit you and Liam for a bit.” Louis says biting his lip.

Zayn narrows his eyes and scans Louis over again, coming back and meeting his eyes. “How much trouble are you in, in the big city?”

“A bit and a half? Nothing that shouldn’t disappear if I lay low for a while.” Louis lies.

“You obviously left in a hurry,” Zayn observes, “You forgot your luggage.”

Louis shrugs and Zayn continues. “All your old stuff is still in one of the spare bedrooms. So you should be fine.”

“You look like you’re in the middle of something, Z. I don’t mean to mess with your…uh…plans.” It’s Halloween and no doubt Zayn and Liam have some ritual or other they plan to perform.

Zayn tilts his head, “Liam’s out back waiting. It’s time for Samhain rituals, but I can stay and get you settled.”

Louis waves him off. “I should be fine. It’s not like I’ve never been here before. I can get changed and watch television. Maybe peek through some of the old books you guys leave lying around. Find me a nice hex for some baddies or something that turns villains into small harmless animals.” Louis’s eyes drift over to a stack of spell-books in the corner of the living room. “You uh, still have plenty, I see.”

Zayn places a hand on his shoulder, drawing his attention back, “Spells are not for fun, Louis. Magic is a tool, not a toy. Some of those books hold powerful things that are even more powerful tonight. Especially if an untrained spark gets ahold of them.” Zayn says seriously. “You could create an absolute shit storm if you mess with any of that, so I suggest you don’t.”

A chill runs up Louis’s spine but he just grins, “Calm your witchy tits. I’m kidding. I don’t believe in it enough to go playing with it. Run along to Liam and your rituals.”

Zayn studies him a moment and then shakes his head. “You know I can perform a protection spell, all you have to do is ask.”

Louis snorts, “You know I’m a non-believer, Z.” But his eyes stray back to the books.

Zayn lets out a deep sigh. “If you’re sure you’re okay alone, I’m going to go tell Liam you’re here and help him finish up.”

“I promise, I’ll be a-okay.”

Zayn still looks mildly worried, but he heads out the door, only glancing back at Louis once before he leaves him alone. Louis goes upstairs to change, and wanders straight back downstairs to the couch, grabbing the remote, turning the telly on, and flipping through channels. After scanning them all at least once, he lands on an old version of _The Three Musketeers_ and leaves it. He manages to focus on it for a good ten minutes before he catches his eyes wandering back to the books in the corner.

He promised Zayn he wouldn’t.

He gives his neck a crack and turns back to the movie. He doesn’t understand how the men on the screen are even fighting with all the ruffles and ridiculous hats they’re sporting. How are they meant to be intimidating with large colored feathers jutting off their heads? Not to mention they carry those thin pointy swords that looks like they’ll break in half with the slightest nudge. Louis will take his pistol over one of those any day.

He tries to remain neutral while watching the ridiculous adventures unfold on screen, but he feels a pang of panic when one of the Musketeers goes down while saving a lady in distress. He’d give good money to have his own Musketeer hero right about now, hat and all.

The books call his attention again, and this time Louis gets up and approaches them. He moves to touch the one on top and then jerks his hand away. He hesitates before reaching in again to stroke the cover. All in one motion he opens it up and starts flipping through it. He stops when he reaches a page that reads “Spell of Protection” in loopy gold font.

The thing seems fairly easy. Find a spot where moonlight can fall on you, light a few white and black candles, envision the way you want to be protected. Then you just say the shit off the page. Easy as cake really.

Louis looks around until his eyes land on the tall window, moonlight pouring through it between the black velvet curtains and drenching the card table placed in front of it in light. Its a full moon tonight, and Louis figures that has to be the best moon of all to do magicky crap.

If, of course, you believe enough to do magicky crap, which he of course doesn’t. He takes the book over to the table in front of the window anyway, grabbing two candles off the coffee table as he goes. They’re pink and red of all colors, but he doesn’t feel the need to dig around for any white or black ones. A candle is a candle.

Conveniently, there are long matches already on the table. It’s like fate is just tempting him to play around with this stuff. He lights one, and then lights both candles. He chuckles as he blows the match out. “What better way to spend Halloween than messing about with witchcraft.” Louis mumbles to himself.

He looks back down at the book. He has to envision protection and say the little chant out loud. He starts out trying to envision something like bulletproof glass surrounding him, but his mind keeps darting back to the movie, and the scene where the Musketeer protects the lady with his life. Cheesy, movie hero, bullshit.

He reads the words off the page carefully just as the clock in the foyer starts ringing out that it’s midnight. As soon as the last word leaves his lips there’s a loud booming explosion and the whole living room fills with smoke.

Louis coughs and waves it away from his face, gasping for breath. As it starts to clear he gets the sickening feeling he’s not alone anymore, and that he may be in a dab of trouble when Zayn and Liam return from outside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry sits up warily and presses his hands to his eyes. He feels disoriented and a little dizzy. He’d just been mid duel defending the King’s honor, when he’d heard what he thought was the call of a distressed maiden. He was sworn to defend the King and his honor at all cost but Harry could never resist the call of a damsel in distress, or occasionally a lad in trouble. Both types gave handsomely in return for heroics, with both their gold and their bodies. He must have been clubbed in the head by his opponent when he got distracted by the high toned voice.

He no longer hears the telltale sounds of his enemies around him, so he opens his eyes to check. He’s surrounded by a cloud of smoke he figures his enemies left as they fled. He clutches tight to his rapier as he stands, fixing his hat and trying to see through the haze around him.

He goes stiff when everything blinks into focus. He’s no longer in some outward village in France, oh no, he’s standing in the foyer of what appears to be a very large house. And in front of him stands a frightened looking and oddly dressed—if not somewhat beautiful— young man.

He closes his eyes and opens them quickly seeing if he’ll see the same. The man is still there, looking quite like he’s staring down the dead as he looks up at Harry. The man’s eyes gleam like aquamarine gemstones and he has soft upturned brown hair. Harry would gladly let a man such as this take precedence over the king’s honor.

“Bonjour Monsieur.” Harry whispers, removing his hat in order to bow. He sheathes his sword as he raises back up, taking a step toward the man.

The man steps back quickly, stumbling slightly. “Who, in the name of the bloody Queen, are you?!” The tiny man says viciously. “And how the hell did you get in here?!”

Harry straightens and puts his hat back on his head. “You’re English!” He exclaims. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m the only Englishman in the French King’s guard then, hm?” He extends a hand. “Harry Styles, honored Musketeer, at you service.”

“Musketeer?!” the man snorts, ignoring his hand, “Yeah right, you’re a Musketeer and I have a fat bottom!”

Harry observes the man’s body, letting his hand drop, and decides that he has a very nice bottom indeed, “Your backside is not in the least lacking, this is true.” He agrees, “I’m a bit disoriented, but I do believe I heard some fair maiden call for help.”

“A maiden….call for help….you heard—”

“Yes,” Harry says, finally registering the high tone and sound of the man’s voice, “Or rather now that I think on it, it was you who called for help. I heard you. Your voice.”

The man’s eyes widen at that, “Me?”

“Yes, I heard you calling out for help as I was defending the King’s honor in a duel. I believe you called out for a hero, a savior, and here I am.” Harry says with a flourish.

The man shakes his head back and forth, slowly taking another step away from Harry. “I’ve lost my mind. I’ve officially cracked under all the stress. I’m as crazy as Zayn.” He looks up at Harry as he mutters, “You can’t be here.”

Harry just stands there, very much still here, as he thinks he has plenty right to be. “Do not get distressed. I am here for your,” He let his gaze wander once more over the man’s body as he steps closer to him. He really was quite beautiful, weird clothing and all, “disposal.”

The man stuffs a hand under his weird loose shirt and produces a small weapon-like object. It resembles a black powder machine. He points it at Harry shakily, “Don’t move any further or you’ll really be at my disposal. I’ll dispose of you.”

Harry is amused as he reaches out to take the toy from his grasp. “What on earth is this tiny thing to do to me?” He asks gazing down into the barrel fingering the trigger.

The man leaps forward and knocks the thing upward just as it goes off loudly, producing a small hole in Harry’s hat and in the ceiling above them.

“Good god, you just about shot yourself in the face you idiot! Did it graze you at all, you giant oaf!?” The tiny man shouts, his sudden anger making him flushed, as he runs a hand over Harry’s face and down his arms, examining him for graze marks.

“It didn’t. I am unharmed.” He says, smirking. “Feel free to examine me further.” He takes advantage of the man’s closeness and wraps an arm around his waist, pulling him to him. “If you wish.”

The next thing he knows there is a fist connecting sharply with his jaw, causing him to stagger backwards and fall to the floor. “You are one feisty lad.” Harry tells the man as he rubs his jaw.

“I am not _feisty.”_ The man snarls. “I am _dangerous.”_

Harry is confused by how off-put this man seems. Normally the people who call to him fall all over him, confessing their distress and begging him to be their savior. Of course, there is always the chance he’s dealing with the sort of man who finds the company of other men….distasteful. But if that’s the case, Harry wonders why he called out in the first place.

Harry sighs in disappointment as his jaw throbs, “Very well, I shall not touch you unless you request it.” He gets to his feet as gracefully as possible.

“Well, I won’t be requesting any _touching._ At least not from you.”

“That may end up true, however I have still come to your aide. What danger opposes you, my vicious one?”

The man rumples a bit at the pet-name, “This is nuts! Insane!”

“I see you are still distressed. Has someone harmed you? Must I call them out and defeat them for you?” Harry asks, still puzzled with why he’s been called upon.

The man closes his eyes and Harry watches his eyelashes dust against his cheeks. He’s almost overcome with how pretty this man is, but before he can say so, the man speaks again. “I think you might want to sit down for this. I think I’ve messed up. Badly.”

“Whatever problem you’ve amassed, I am certain I can help.” Harry asserts, still standing.

“It’s really your problem I think we should worry about. The problem _of_ you, really.” The man says slowly.

Harry frowns. “I’m lost. I do not understand.”

“Do you know anything about witches, what did you say your name was? Harry?”

“Yes.” He pauses, “And yes, Harry. Why? Are you a witch?”

“No!” the man counters quickly. “Not, not really. But like I said, you might want to go sit on the sofa.”

“If you wish for me to, then I guess I’ll oblige.” Harry tucks his hat under his arm and marches to the dull seating. He sits and turns to face the man who sits down beside him. “Now, I still don’t know your distress.” He pauses. “Nor your name.”

The man blinks, “Oh, I’m uh, I’m Louis. Louis Tomlinson.”

“Louis.” Harry says, letting it roll off his tongue. “That’s a very French name for a fellow Englishman.” He observes, “So Louis, what is your trouble?”

Louis’s face pales a tiny bit. “I got into a bit of an ordeal with some very nasty men. And I may have gotten into an old book and read off some sort of incantation out of desperation, and as a bit of a joke.”

“A spell?” Harry asks.

Louis nods, “Yeah, a protection-spell-thing. I said the words out loud and boom. You come out of nowhere.”

Harry smiles a little with pity and pats Louis on the shoulder. “My poor Lou. You really believe you have conjured me up with witch work?”

“I’m positive I did.”

“Maybe I simply heard you speaking and wandered in, in a daze on my own?” Harry says softly.

“Well, you see, that would be a good explanation, but I’m afraid you would have had to wander through more than a door. Say, maybe a couple centuries.”

Harry studies Louis’s face for any sign of falter, but he finds none. Louis remains serious, the poor, beautiful creature. He’s delusional. Louis meets his eyes and must see the pity.

“You think I’m crazy.” Louis stops and looks away from Harry. “I might be, but I’m telling the truth. This is the year 2015!!”

Harry laughs but Louis jumps up from the couch. “I can prove it!”

“Oh?” Harry doesn’t want to encourage Louis if he was having delusions, but he sees no choice but to indulge him.

Louis stands up and pulls a tiny flat cube from his pocket. “This, is a cell phone.”

Harry just nods, not understanding what that means. Louis thumbs over the front and the small thing lights up. He feels his eyes widen in surprise as Louis brings it forward. It displays numbers, and underneath that it says, “October, 31st 2015.”

Harry leaps to his feet, “That’s a trick! A new machine like your explosive toy!”

Louis sighs, and points to a large flat box in front of them. “See that? That’s a television.”

Harry looks, as Louis picks up another small flat cube and presses something on it. The box in front of them roars to life. Harry jumps back drawing his rapier. He sees tiny Musketeers inside the box, fighting. His own men, trapped and shrunk. He lashes out with his sword but the shield on the box appears solid.

He’s still swinging at it when Zayn and Liam burst through the front door. When their eyes land on Harry, Zayn just groans.

Liam’s mouth drops open and he rushes into the room, “Louis Tomlinson, what have you _done?”_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Louis feels sorry for Harry. The guy just sits there looking anxious and bewildered as Zayn and Liam take turns explaining how he’s gotten here. Harry still doesn’t believe them until Zayn shows him the electric lights, and Liam’s black Honda that’s sitting outside. The car is what seals the acceptance that he is no longer in his time.

Liam is pacing now as Louis sits patiently beside Harry on the couch and Zayn is just standing off to the side brooding. He looks at Louis every so often with a look that plainly states, ‘I told you so’.

“I can’t believe you worked a spell without supervision. Without permission!” Liam exclaims, he paces over and stares down at the open book on the window table. “Is this what you used?! This spell!?”

Louis gets up and walks over. He glances over Liam’s shoulder and sees that the spell the book is opened to is the same one he used. “Yes. Yeah.”

Liam motions Zayn over, picking up the book and handing it to him. Zayn reads over it quickly and then looks up at Louis with daggers for eyes. “It says on line two to only do this spell on a half moon. Tonight is a full moon, Louis. Do you know how powerful a full moon is? And on Halloween, of all nights!”

Louis averts his eyes to the floor. “I didn’t think it’d work. You know I’m not a believer.”

“Well it worked alright!” Liam spits “You practically tripled its power!”

Zayn skims a hand down the page. “It also calls for a white candle for purity and a black one to dispel any negative energy.” He reads.

Liam picks up the candles from the table and holds them at arm’s length into Zayn’s view. “He used these I believe.”

Zayn gives the candles a blank look, then looks over to Harry, who’s still sitting quietly on the couch. “Red represents passion,” he looks back to Louis, “and pink is for love. Honestly, Lou, I don’t think you did anything right.”

Liam just sighs, “What were you even thinking?”

Louis figures he might as well be honest. “Mostly I kept thinking about The Three Musketeers.” He says sheepishly, looking at Harry. “It was on the telly.”

“So basically you envisioned a Musketeer while in the middle of a potent protection spell.” Zayn says, still staring at Harry. “It looks like you got exactly what you asked for.”

Liam resumes his pacing. “Goddess help me Louis, don’t try anything else while you’re an untrained warlock.”

“I’m not even a warlock, Liam!” Louis argues.

“Well I think Harry, the valiant Musketeer, who’s with us in the flesh, would disagree with you.” Liam says sternly.

Harry jolts when he hears the description. He hadn’t been paying them much attention, but now he appears to be perking. He slowly gets to his feet and approaches them. “This spell…this magic…is it reversible?” He asks.

Zayn looks back to the book and skims it again with a finger. “Anything is reversible, but it’s going to be extremely complicated. I’m going to have to do extensive research and maybe ask around.”

“Fantastic!” Louis shouts. “While you do that, I’ll continue worrying about this country’s biggest criminal bearing down for my head.”

Liam gasps, Zayn blinks at him with wide eyes, and Harry sits back down. Louis realizes that he hasn’t quite informed them of his impending doom. He hadn’t planned to, actually. “I didn’t say that.” He backtracks. “I was exaggerating. Go on, Zayn and work out a way to get Harry home.”

Zayn bites his lip and pulls a face. “Only the caster can reverse a spell, Lou.”

“No.” Harry says from his seat.

They all turn to face him. “No? No isn’t an option, you have to go back.” Louis says.

Harry meets Louis eyes with a dark look. If it weren’t for the blonde crimp curls falling around the Musketeer’s face, Louis would find him supremely attractive.

“It is my duty to be here. I am a Musketeer.” Harry says, still holding the gaze. “I was called by you to help, and I shall answer that call.”

Louis drops his head and shakes it. “It’s not really a situation you can assist with.”

“You are yet unaware of how much I can be of assistance. No Musketeer leaves a soul in danger. This man who is after you, this criminal, he means you harm, correct?” Harry says, and Louis just nods. Harry averts his gaze to Zayn and Liam. “I will stay. At least until I have helped resolve the issue. Then and only then shall I return to whence I came.”

Louis sighs and lifts his head, “How are you going to help? Are you going to challenge the bad guys to a duel? Poke them with your sword? All of that is good and fine in your century, but you’ll be dead before you can pull your shiny stick from its sheath in this one!”

“Hah! You doubt me!” Harry exclaims, turning his back to Louis and crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child.

“Great, Louis. You just insulted his honor.” Liam scolds.

Louis throws his arms in the air. “I’m not trying to insult his abilities dammit, I’m trying to keep him alive!”

Harry doesn’t turn back around, he remains turned away, huffing. Louis figures he’s waiting for an apology, so he obliges, “I’m very sorry if you think I’m doubting you, Harry. I’m also sorry I dragged you here when you can’t even help me. If you were to die while here, the guilt would be on my head.”

Harry faces him then, “Yes, but if I return and abandon my quest knowing you are still in danger, I’ll be the guilty one. I could not live with that. It would affect my future duties, I’m afraid.”

Louis just stares at him. “I see.”

“It is not just a question of my honor. I cannot stand to see someone…someone as lovely as you, in danger, and then to just leave them to be harmed? Unimaginable.”

Louis tears his eyes from Harry’s and begs Zayn for back up with a look. Zayn leans back against the wall, book still in hand. “You can’t send him back if he’s unwilling. At least not safely. There are strict rules about performing rituals on someone unwilling. Their permission is more than just valued, it’s required.”

Louis knows when he’s been defeated. “Then I guess you get to stay for now, Harry.” He says as he scans over the Musketeer’s outfit. “However, I think a makeover is needed if he has to stay here, Zayn.”

The boots are cool, and the outfit hugs to Harry’s body in ways that are unimaginable, but he’ll never blend in with it. “It’ll be better if he looks like he belongs in 2015.”

Harry hums to himself and walks around Louis in a circle, “The dress here does seem strange compared to my attire.” He gives a disapproving look to Louis’s skinny jeans and plaid jacket.

Louis squawks in protest and reaches up to jerk Harry’s hat from his head, tossing it into a corner, “Your dress is weird compared to the way we dress now.” He counters, eyeing the blond curls. “The first thing is chopping off these awful curls.”

Harry smiles slowly and a bit mischievously. “I’m glad someone finds them as offensive as I do.” He says, reaching up and jerking a wig from his head. “Luckily they are not mine.”

Underneath the wig Harry’s hair is a dark brown, pulled back into a small bun at the back of his scalp. It still looks long to Louis, but not offending in the least. He wonders just how long it is, when he impulsively reaches a hand to the back of Harry’s head and tugs the bun loose. He runs his fingers through Harry’s hair and shakes out loose brown curls that look worlds better than the crisp fake blonde ones. They fall a little past Harry’s shoulders and are delicately soft to the touch. Harry’s bright green eyes stare down at Louis, darkening, and Louis needs a moment to catch his breath.

Liam clears his throat behind them. “It could still use a bit of a cut.”

Louis removes his hand from Harry’s hair slowly. “I…uh…I mean, I think this is fine actually. It’s fine like that.” Louis clears his own throat when he hears how affected it sounds. _Christ_.

“I’m glad you enjoy my natural locks.” Harry says softly.

Louis takes a step back and averts his eyes, “You should maybe shower, and brush your teeth.”

“Brush my teeth?” Harry questions.

“Follow me, Harry.” Zayn says. “I’ll take you to the bathroom and show you what he means.”

Harry looks at Louis for approval but Louis keeps his eyes off him and just shoos him away with a hand motion. When they’re both ascending the staircase Louis turns to see Liam glancing back and forth between Harry and the candles he’s placed back on the table.

Louis ignores it. “If he thinks my spell was magic, I can’t wait ‘til he experiences running water.”

Liam just nods. “I’ll head up and lay him some clothes out. You can stay down here if you think you can stay out of trouble.”

“No worries. I won’t mess with anything else.” Louis promises. “I really am sorry, Li.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Liam waves off his apologies and follows after the other two men, leaving Louis once again to his own devices.

He wanders back over to the sofa and flips the tv back on. He pulls up the menu and checks tonight’s listings, thinking that it could be a good way to get Harry caught up in the real world if he maybe gets him to watch a bit of telly. Louis should probably get him a gun as well, and train him to use it. He’s highly worried that Harry is going to be a large burden during all this. Louis is doing well to keep himself alive, and now he has Harry to protect too. What a mess.

Zayn coming back down the stairs after about twenty minutes prompts Louis to stand up and shut the tv off, meeting him at the bottom step. “So how did he do with the plumbing?”

Zayn, who’s now wearing jeans and a t-shirt instead of his ritual robes, just smiles. “See for yourself, mate.”

Louis looks up and sees Harry standing at the top of the stairs. The black pair of Zayn’s skinny jeans are slightly too small, so they hug his long legs like cling film, and the white jumper is straining across Harry’s chest like it’s going to burst at the seams. His curls are still wet but they’re brushed back from his face, falling perfectly. Jesus, Harry is like a fucking Adonis. Of course, as soon as Louis thinks that Harry smiles, blinding white and it makes him look even more like he walked from a magazine. Louis’s knees almost weaken. _Almost._

Zayn leans over and whispers, “You’re drooling.”

Louis shoves his shoulder as he passes and continues watching Harry’s descent. “Do you think I’ll fit in better now?” Harry asks.

“Maybe with a group of models.” Louis mutters, suddenly aware that his own hair is rumpled and he hasn’t showered yet. Louder he says, “You fit Zayn’s clothes better than he does. Liam did a good job. You look great.” Better than great. He looks hunky. He looks porn worthy. Louis’s throat feels a little dry and he’s desperately trying to disconnect his brain.

Harry’s smile just gets bigger as he steps off the bottom step, landing right in front of Louis. “I don’t have anywhere to carry my sword, but I must say this garb is quite comfortable.”

Louis looks over in the corner where Harry had propped his sword before going upstairs. “No one really carries swords around nowadays. Maybe we can get you something more modern, like a gun.”

Harry’s smile droops a bit. “If that’s the thing that almost blew my head off earlier, I’ll pass. My sword will work well enough, no matter if I’m the only one to carry one.”

“Harry, Nick—the man we are up against—he and his men all have guns. You can’t defend yourself from them with a sword.”

“You can carry all the…guns…you want to, Louis. I am telling you that my sword will do me just fine.”

Louis clenches his jaw. “I’ve never met someone so stubborn. Fine, keep your stupid sword.”

Harry’s smile returns, like he enjoys rumpling Louis’s metaphorical feathers.

“It’s cold out,” Liam interjects from halfway up the stairs. “I overheard, sorry. But it’s cold out, so we can just get him a long coat. He can carry the sword under it and no one will raise any alarms.”

“I’ll raise a damn alarm if he gets shots straight through that magnificent chest of hi—“ Louis cuts himself off, realizing what he just said.

Harry moves closer, standing right up against Louis so Louis’s face is almost pressed right against said magnificent chest. “Something about my physique appeals to you?”

“No, I just want to keep you in one piece so I can send you back to wherever I sucked you out of!” Louis says, cheeks heating up when he thinks about the verb suck and the man in front of him in the same sentence.

Harry chuckles like he knows exactly what is floating through Louis’s forebrain. “Then I’ll try to keep my magnificent chest free of injury for you, _Louis_.” The way he says ‘Louis’ just sounds downright suggestive.

Louis swallows hard. He needs to pull himself together. He’s not the type to fall head over foot for some ego-ridden bloke with gorgeous hair who tries to make him swoon. Even if he feels himself swaying a little. God, his throat is so dry.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were just saying that as flirtation.”

“As a Musketeer, I make it another of my priorities to flirt with as many beautiful people as I can.” Harry smirks.

Louis feels his ears redden, not sure why he finds Harry so appealing. Zayn sighs behind them, and gives Liam a knowing look as he picks up the red and pink candles and tosses them in the garbage bin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Louis plops down onto the couch beside Harry, trying not to sit too close, and grabs the remote. The tv comes on loudly and he sees Harry give it a wary glance before continuing to eye Louis.

“So you’re going to explain why the tiny musketeers are trapped inside this box?” He asks.

Louis shuts his eyes and prays to the Queen that he’ll have enough patience to explain this. “No one is really inside the tv, it’s just pictures, um…it’s pretend.” He pauses, unsure how to word it. “It’s just people wearing costumes like they would in a play.”

A look of mild understanding crosses Harry’s features. “The actors are so small, though.”

“They aren’t really. They’re not really inside the box, okay?” Louis grasps desperately for an explanation Harry will understand. He glances up as Liam enters the room holding an old Polaroid camera.

He hands it to Louis forcefully, “See if this will help.”

Louis takes the camera and stands up, fiddling with a few buttons. “Okay…um…hold still for a moment Harry and I’ll show you.”

Louis gets directly in front of Harry and presses the shutter button, a mild flash goes off, startling Harry into getting up. Louis takes the photo and shakes it a bit, waiting for the image to appear. It takes it a few moments before Harry appears in the small frame, but when he does he looks like a fantasy. He’s looking at the camera with a blank look, sitting sprawled out, looking relaxed. The stretch of his clothes is still clearly visible in the photo. Louis might keep this picture for a while.

He looks up from the picture to the real thing, now standing in front of him. “See this?” He asks. “I took a photo of you. Like a painting, but quicker and more direct.”

Harry takes the polaroid from Louis’s hand, their fingers brushing. “This is amazing, it depicts a tiny me.”

“Yeah,” Louis agrees. “Something similar to what I took this with takes moving pictures of people, and then those moving pictures go up on the tv so we can watch them. Does that make it any clearer?”

Harry takes the photo and sits back down, staring at the television screen. “Okay. Yes. What sort of play is appearing now?”

Louis sits down beside him and takes the photo back, slipping it into his jacket pocket for safe keeping, and looks up to where an American Football game is showing. “This isn’t a play really, what’s on now is a game. It’s called football in some places. You won’t find it entertaining if you don’t understand it.” Right then the tv cuts to a scene of cheerleaders and Harry’s eyes light up. Louis quickly changes the station. “Ah, this is better, it’s a movie. It tells a story like a play does. Let’s watch it and I’ll explain a few things.”

Harry looks mesmerized as the opening credits to _Casablanca_ scroll. “What kind of story is it?”

Louis sighs, he hates old movies, but it’ll do. “It’s a love story. An old one, but still viable I guess.”

Zayn snorts from somewhere behind them where he’s looking through books, “You expect him to learn about the modern world, I’m not sure _Casablanca_ is your best approach.”

“Oh, shut up.” Louis says, thumbing the volume up a few notches.

Liam of course voices his opinion as he comes back into the room. “It’s kind of late actually, and I think Harry should be getting some rest. He’s kind of had a long trip today.”

“How about you and Zayn go to bed Li, I think me and Harry will be fine.”

Liam just eyes him. “Doctor Who is on channel twelve, and the news is a few up from that. I think one of those may be better suited for your purpose.”

Louis just ignores him and ups the volume even more.

Harry speaks over it, “I found the…football…interesting, I think.”

Of course he did, Louis thinks. “Yes, well, I think it’s best if we watch Casablanca while Liam and Zayn head off to bed.” He eyes them both pointedly as he says it.

It takes a few minutes, but they do just that, leaving Harry and Louis alone to their movie. Louis tries to explain it as best he can as it goes. He explains the war, the airplanes, everything he can really, but when it ends Harry’s stares at him with confusion.

“He made her go?” Harry asks.

Louis laughs a little. “Yeah, I guess that’s what makes it a beautiful story.”

Harry shakes his head, “It is not beautiful, it is…foolish. He lets her go.”

Louis blinks, “Why is that foolish?”

“Well, he loved her!” Harry exclaims. “The war and everything else should not matter in the face of that! He let it, and he let her go. It is foolish. He should not have.”

He says it with such a passion that Louis looks at him with surprise, “I guess you feel pretty strongly about it.”

Harry nods, “Yes, nothing in this world is more important than love. Nothing.”

Louis averts his eyes and turns the tv off, “You sound like you know a lot about love then. Like you’ve experienced it.”

Harry shakes his head but his gaze remains glued to Louis’s face. “I have had many lovers. It is hard for someone in my position to find someone who doesn’t only love what I can give them, though. They love my position, my glory, they love the idea of a Musketeer. But one day I will find the person that loves me and not my sword.”

“Oh, I’d say you will.” Louis agrees.

“When I do I’ll give it to them. My sword that is, I’ll lay it at their feet and surrender my life as a Musketeer. I will still fight for them, and even die for them, but no longer with a title that’s any more than their beloved.”

Louis blinks, amazed at the passion in Harry’s words. “Well, whoever ends up earning your love will be one lucky person then.”

Harry just smiles and nudges the remote, “Let us watch another story.”

“It’s late, are you not tired?”

“I don’t think I could sleep if I tried, too much on my mind.” Harry says, still gazing deeply at Louis.

Louis doesn’t think he’s ever met a more hopeless romantic. Harry’s speech still running through his brain as he flips through the channels, landing on Sherlock. “Here we go. You’ll get to see kind of what I do for a living, except these guys are much better and a lot less realistic.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry is awed by the mysterious man on screen. He is astonished by the fact Louis is a lot like him, and at the things the career of a detective can bring up. He understands now the depth of the danger Louis must be facing.

When the show ends he turns to face Louis, “So, like the man…Sherlock…you feel like you don’t need anyone to protect you.”

“Yeah.” Louis agrees firmly.

“But you sought help through magic, so you must be afraid?” Harry asks lightly.

Louis shrugs his thin shoulders, “I was playing with it, really. I didn’t expect a Musketeer to show up, I was just goofing off.”

Louis smiles, and it’s soft. Harry watches the way it crinkles the corners of Louis’s blue eyes. Louis is beautiful, and watching him smile makes something in Harry’s stomach bubble.

“No, I think you are afraid.”

Louis shuts his eyes and sighs, and Harry knows that means yes, but Louis is stubborn and will not admit to fear, much like the men in the show.

“Tell me more about this danger you face, Louis.” Harry presses.

Louis opens his eyes and tries to bury himself deeper into the couch as he begins. He tells all of it and Harry is amazed at Louis’s skill in avoiding capture for so long. The disguising of himself, and the clever escape onto something called a bus. The man before him was truly unlike none he had ever known, worthy even to be a fellow Musketeer if they had been in Harry’s own time.

“Why do you not flee further?” Harry asks. “Leave this tape, and this evidence where it is.”

“I can’t.” Louis sounds so distraught. “Nick Grimshaw will hurt more people than he already has if I don’t put him away. I can’t let more people die when I know I can stop it.”

Harry stares at him for a long moment. “This is something I can understand.”

“It is?”

“Yes,” he says, “Louis, it is a matter of honor. Just like I cannot leave you to be harmed.”

Louis looks at him thoughtfully, “I guess I can see that.”

“So come on, you must take me with you and we shall retrieve this evidence.”

Louis looks surprised, “That won’t work, they’re guarding the bank. I told you, they’d have me before I even got close to the tape.”

“Yes, you said. However they are watching for _you_.” Harry says. “They do not even know I exist.”

Louis frowns and his eyebrows come together in confusion. “Yeah but—”

“I shall be the one who goes in and takes the tape. They are not looking for me so I can do it easily.”

Louis frowns further, “That _sounds_ so easy, but it won’t be.”

“Yes, but I am a Musketeer. This small task is nothing to the things I am capable of.”

Louis gets to his feet and begins pacing. After a moment he turns to face Harry again, “As much as I hate saying this, I think we can try it. It’ll be so dangerous though.”

“Danger is nothing new to a Musketeer.” Harry replies.

Louis looks him over again, Harry notices his gaze lingering a bit in places, but he gets the sense that Louis still finds him incapable.

“We should get some sleep, Harry. Tomorrow will be a long day if we do this, and we both need to be on our toes.”

Harry nods in agreement. “That is wise.”

“Come on, I’ll take you to the bedroom.” Louis says, and grabs Harry’s hand. Harry figures the move was done without much thought as a shudder runs through both of them when their hands meet. The smaller hand clasping his larger one sends a spiral of attraction through Harry that’s deeper than any he’s ever known. He realizes then what Louis must be expecting of him.

“Before we go to the bedchamber there is something I must make plain.”

Louis tugs his hand gently as they approach the stairs, but Harry stops him by bringing the hand to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to the smooth skin. Louis stumbles, and Harry can see the man’s cheeks heat. “Oh..uh..g-go on.” Louis stutters.

“I am a Musketeer, Louis. My duty from this moment forward will be to protect you at all costs. It is a task that I do not take lightly and until it is completed I cannot allow my attention to lie elsewhere.”

Louis tilts his head slightly to the side, still looking dazed, “I’m not really sure what you’re saying.”

Harry drops Louis’s hand, “I am saying that I am your protector, and as such I cannot make love to you.”

Louis blinks twice and then his eyes grow wide, “What?!”

“I do apologize, because I expect you’re wanting that, but I cannot. I cannot be distracted from the mission for one single second. So I cannot make love to you until the danger has passed.”

Louis gapes and his eyes light up with anger, “You arrogant ass-wit, you mean to say you assume I would eve—”

Harry doesn’t allow him to finish his statement. He strides forward in one solid motion and swoops Louis into his arms, sealing his mouth over his. Louis is rigid in his arms, but as Harry starts to press with his lips he feels Louis begin to respond, so Harry presses further until he’s all but making love to Louis with his mouth.

Then he straightens, careful not to let go of Louis too quickly in case he’s weak. Louis’s eyes look glazed and he’s breathing heavily. “I know it is difficult Louis, I find it hard to wait myself. For now, though I cannot give you what you want, you must show me a bedchamber that is separate from your own.”

Louis is still breathing hard as Harry watches his cheeks redden and his fists clench. “ _What I want!_ ” Louis repeats. “The only thing I want from you, pal, is a little help getting my evidence to the police. And then what I want is to express ship you right back into your own time and out of my life. Capisce?”

Harry smiles gently at Louis’s denial. “I understand _completely._ ”

Louis emits a sound like a growl, and turns to stomp up the stairs. Harry is not surprised at Louis’s anger for being denied. It’s frustrating to Harry as well. If he were any other Musketeer he might forgo honor and give in, but he isn’t.

He goes up the steps slowly and walks to the bedroom Zayn had shown him earlier, opening the door quietly. He’s ready to try and rest.

~~~~~~~~~

Louis got virtually no sleep. He kept flopping, and wallowing, and punching the pillow, wishing it was Harry’s fine cut face. He kept replaying the way he’d reacted to the kiss in his head, and it wouldn’t go away.

Harry is so infuriating, so arrogant. To just expect Louis to want him, to think Louis is trying to get him in bed for more than just sleep. The nerve of that man.

But god that kiss. Harry kisses like that’s his purpose in life.

And now Louis of course can’t stop thinking about it. He’d reacted to Harry’s touch like he was going into heat or something and that was way, way beyond acceptable. Of course it could be blamed entirely on the fact that Louis hasn’t been with anyone in over a year. He’s kind of lousy at picking boyfriends, and focuses too much on his work to have more than a few random hookups every so often. Even those he barely has time for, considering he hasn’t had one in twelve months. So, of course he’s going to react when a—let’s face it—drop dead gorgeous man kisses him. It’s basically human nature or something.

Now Harry thinks he’s interested, though, and he isn’t. He can’t be. It’s just a matter of time before Harry is going to be sent off to where he came from. That was the heart of the matter, Harry is eventually going to return to his own time, so there’s no sense in Louis even trying to form any sort of attachment, or to act upon the small bead of attraction he may or may not be feeling.

No reason to let himself do that whatsoever, he reasons as he watches Zayn re-explain the role Harry would be playing today. All three have been going over it with Harry all morning. They’ve explained that he’ll have to wait his turn in line, rehearsed what he needs to say to the teller, he’s memorized the locked-box number and he knows now how to get into it, how to put it back, and how to leave quietly.

Louis figures they’ve covered just about everything. Liam ran into town and picked up a long dark colored coat that came down mid-shin. It easily covers the stupid rapier Harry insists on wearing. Liam had also had the good sense to get the locked-box key copied, so Louis has a backup if something goes awry, which he has no doubt something will. Louis is going to be waiting right outside the bank in Liam’s car when it does.

Louis’s stomach churns when he and Harry pile into the Honda to drive back to London. He can’t stop the overwhelming sense that he’s forgetting some small minor detail, and that it will get them both killed.

Harry, on the other hand, looks excited, though whether it’s about the job ahead of them, or the car ride, Louis can’t really tell. Harry had looked very pale when the car had first started moving. Now he looks like a child on an amusement ride.

“We are making excellent speed, Louis.”

Louis looks at the speedometer and wants to laugh. “I’m doing about thirty-five actually. That’s rather slow.”

Another car passes them in the other lane, doing a much faster speed, and Harry’s eyes follow it as it passes. “I am both nervous and in awe of this transportation.”

“I think you’re doing pretty well for someone who’s never even seen a car before. I don’t know how I’d be in your situation, I’d probably be a blithering mess, honestly.”

“I doubt that Louis. You are very brave,” Harry says. “In my time I’ve no doubt you’d be a Musketeer.”

Louis smiles, “Thanks. I still doubt it, though.”

Harry doesn’t argue, and as they approach the highway, his attention is focused less on conversation and more on observing the world around them. Louis can’t imagine how odd and strange everything must look, so he stays quiet as Harry gazes at everything.

By noon they reach London. Louis parks a block away from Central Bank, tugging on a beanie  to disguise himself as best he can. “That’s the bank down the street.” He points to show Harry. “I’ll be here in the car watching you. Okay?”

“Yes. I remember everything I am supposed to do.” Harry glances around, still with some amazement, but Louis can see the sheer focus in his eyes now. The Musketeer was now in duty mode.

Louis drags his eyes away from Harry and scans around for enemies. “There’s a large black car across the street. That’s one of Nick’s men for sure.”

Harry looks at the car and nods, “Should you wait elsewhere? Will they see you?” He asks. “You’ll be unprotected while I am inside.”

“Not really.” Louis says showing Harry his gun, “I’m prepared if they want to come for me.”

“I still do not like leaving you alone so close to one of them.”

“I’ll be fine, you need to go do your part or this whole mess will never end.”

Harry sighs heavily, but fiddles with the door handle until it opens. “I will be swift.”

Louis touches his shoulder lightly before he climbs out. “Be careful Harry.”

“I shall.” Harry says as he gets out and walks dutifully toward the bank, his long coat swishing around his legs. Harry’s head swivels about, eyeing everything with suspicion, and Louis sighs at how suspicious Harry himself is looking. At least his sword isn’t visible.

_Oh shit his sword!_

Louis suddenly remembers the small thing he’d felt like he’d forgotten. The small thing that isn’t small at all. Central Bank has been robbed four times in the past two or three years. So as an extra security measure they’ve added metal detectors to the entrance.

“Fuck.” Louis curses himself. He has to stop Harry somehow, but he can’t run after him, and he definitely can’t make it inside with his gun. He pulls it from his jeans and shoves it between the seats.

Louis frantically gets out of the car to chase after Harry, but he sees that the other man is already to the entrance. By the time Louis reaches the bank Harry is being ushered through the metal detector. Louis shoves the front door open and rushes inside just as the machine starts beeping and guards rush at Harry to see what’s on him.

Harry reaches for his sword as Louis screams out, “Harry no!” It’s too late though. Harry’s already got his weapon in hand and is brandishing it at the guards who now have their guns drawn. The bank’s main alarm starts shrieking like a banshee. Louis sees Harry smile as he holds the guards at bay. The ancient bastard seems to be enjoying himself.

Harry backs swiftly to the door, rushing past Louis. He’s gone through it with the guards in pursuit before Louis can manage to blink. The sound of sirens are already approaching on the streets outside. Louis looks out to see the dark car pulling away from the curb. Whoever Nick sent more than likely has a history of criminal activity and isn’t too anxious to be seated near an apparent bank robbery.

Louis scans out the windows for any sign of Harry and he sees him leap nimbly from the sidewalk and flip up onto the hood of a parked car, still swinging his sword at the guards. He leaps off the other side of the car and out of view. Louis really should go after him, but he needs to get the tape himself now.

Louis can get Harry out of jail, or the mental ward, later. He really hopes the cops don’t shoot first and ask questions last. The thought spurs him to hurry. There’s no way Harry can survive this situation alone.

He rushes up to one of the frightened bank tellers. “I know I have some shit timing, but my life is in peril and I need access to a locked-box.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the teller says, “but in the middle of a robbery I can’t let you—”

“I will die if you don’t.” Louis says, cutting her off, and it could be true.

The woman’s eyes widen and she nods. “O-okay. Please, be discreet though, I don’t want to get into trouble.”

“Thank you.” Louis says and follows her to the back room.

He has the tape in hand in under five minutes and is back in the bank lobby where the cops are questioning people. He snakes his way through the crowd, pausing to listen to some of the guards that have returned from the chase talk to the cops.

“The bloke is a lunatic.” The guard says. “Waving that sword about like a mad man, and screaming about being a Musketeer.”

“He was one hell of an acrobat though. Flipped right away from us.” Another adds.

“Yeah, he disappeared down an alley and I thought we had him for sure. But the dude ran up the wall and flipped right over the fence.”

Damn, maybe Harry is capable of something after all. Louis wishes he could have seen it.

He slides the tape into his back pocket and idles through the crowd of people that have already been questioned. He thinks briefly about just handing the tape over to the cops on the scene but it’s too risky. He can’t trust it in the hands of anyone other than the prosecutor. He has no doubt at least one of these cops is on Nick’s payroll, and that just won’t do.

A cop gives the group he’s standing in the okay to leave and Louis slips out. He has to find Harry before he gets killed somewhere else in London. He ducks his head as a black car passes by when he’s almost back to the Honda, but it’s too late. The driver does a double take and Louis runs for Liam’s car.

He’s halfway there when the black car parks and a man steps out of it. He’s dressed in a pinstriped suit, hair trussed up, and sunglasses perched on his nose. Fuck.

Louis has one hand on the Honda’s door handle when the guy reaches him, hand inside his suit jacket, pulling out a gun and sticking it in Louis’s back. He slowly turns Louis to face him, pressing it then into Louis’s stomach. He finally sees that he’s being held at gunpoint by none other than Nick Grimshaw himself. How lovely.

“I think you have something of mine,” Nick says, “and you should probably hand it over.”

“See, I would, but I kind of already gave it to the police.”

“Don’t lie to me, Tomlinson.” Nick spits. “Hand. It. Over.”

Louis just smiles, “Why? You going to shoot me if I don’t? Those cops in the bank will be all over you in seconds if you do that.”

“Oh, I’m not going to shoot you here.” Nick says as he tugs Louis away from the Honda and starts toward the black car that’s driving back toward them. He knows that if Nick gets him in that vehicle it’s all over. Louis shuts his eyes and hopes for a miracle.

His miracle appears in the form of Harry. Nick and Louis are still standing on the side of the car that faces the sidewalk. And the black car full of Nick’s people pulls up on the other side.

When Nick suddenly stiffens Louis isn’t sure why. Then he twists his neck and looks down to see Harry crouching on the sidewalk, the tip of his rapier firmly pressed to Nick’s spine.

“I suggest you let him go.” Harry says softly.

Harry is really smart, Louis realizes. The goons in the car can’t see him where he’s crouching. The Honda blocking him completely from their view.

Nick doesn’t flinch.

“I said release him, unless you want to be impaled.” Harry pushes the sword tip a little more into Nick’s back and the crime boss finally reacts.

“Okay.” He says and steps back from Louis, keeping the gun trained on him.

“Tell your men to leave.” Harry says, shoving the sword again.

Nick’s jaw goes tight but he makes a hand motion toward the black car. “Take a couple turns around the block.”

The car pulls away slowly, and Louis relaxes a little, but not too much since Nick’s gun is still pointed at his chest.

“Now,” Harry says, getting to his feet as soon as the car is out of sight, “if you put your gun down I might allow you to live.”

“No way. I don’t know what kind of loony bin you came out of, but if you don’t put your pointy stick down, I can still blow Louis here away with the twitch of my finger.”

“If you do that, those men from the bank will be down on your head in seconds.” Harry says.

“Maybe that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

At that exact moment Louis sees one of the cops step out of the bank and spot Harry, motioning behind him for backup and heading toward them in full sprint. Harry sees them too and Louis watches Nick take the advantage and whirl around to point the gun at Harry.

Harry flicks his sword on what seems to Louis like reflex and Nick’s gun goes sailing out of his hand in an instant. Then in one quick motion Harry knocks Nick in the face with his sword hilt and sends him sprawling onto the sidewalk.

Louis sees Nick reaching for the gun that’s on the ground and opens the car door, grabbing his own from between the seats. He points it at Nick’s head. “Don’t move, Grimshaw or your brains will hit the ground faster than you did.”

The cops are almost on them guns drawn, and Harry dives past Louis and clambers over to the passenger’s seat. Louis follows his lead and gets in, closing the door and slamming the key into the ignition. His foot is on the pedal and he’s peeling out into the street just as the first cop gets to the spot where they were.

The sirens start up immediately and Louis realizes he’s about to be chased by half the cops in London in addition to all of Nick’s men. He sees the traffic up ahead is clogged and makes a split second decision as he lays on the horn and cuts the wheel. The car bumps up onto the sidewalk as people scramble to get out of his way. He hits a few signs and knocks over a newsstand but really it’s that or hit the pedestrians. He can hear Harry breathing in sharp, nervous gasps as Louis swings onto a side roads that leads straight out of the city. By the time they hit the highway out of London there are no cops in sight, meaning Louis lost them.

“Damn, I’d make one hell of a getaway driver.” He says as he slows to the speed limit. No need to attract any unwanted notice by speeding. When he looks over to see how Harry’s doing he’s met with a pale face and wide eyes. “Uhm, are you going to be okay, Harry?”

Harry swallows and nods, but still looks like he’s about to throw up his breakfast. “I am fine. Are you?” His wide eyes suddenly fill with concern as he looks at Louis. “Were you harmed?”

Louis shakes his head swiftly, putting his eyes back on the road. “No. I would’ve been if you hadn’t have shown up. I severely underestimated you, you literally saved my life.”

“It is my duty.” Harry answers. “It should not surprise you that I will do anything to save your life.”

“I guess stuff like what you did back there you have been doing your whole life, huh?”

“You guess correctly.”

Louis reaches a hand out and put it on Harry’s arm, “I am really sorry that I thought you wouldn’t be any help. I shouldn’t have doubted you when I didn’t really know what you could do.”

Harry puts a hand over Louis’s on his own arm, but stays silent.

“Harry, I mean, I guess what I’m saying is I’m so used to going about it all alone, that I never really considered anyone being capable of helping. I’ve never really met anyone tough enough. People today aren’t quite as brave as you are because they don’t have to be.”

Louis feels Harry squeeze his hand. “It’s just as well for me that the people of your time are soft.”

“What do you mean?” Louis asks.

“Well, that man—Nick, I believe you’ve called him—he seemed to think that because he was waving a gun and all I had was a sword that he could best me.” Harry explains. “He did not think I could disarm him until I already had.”

“Well I guess he’s learned a valuable lesson then.” Louis says, and he can’t help but smile, “I wish I had a good view of his face when you did disarm him, I bet he looked like he was choking on air.”

Harry laughs. “He was gaping a bit and his eyes looked like they were attempting an escape from his skull.”

Louis laughs too. “Good god I’m glad I brought you today. I really am.”

Harry removes his hand from Louis’s and shakes Louis’s hand off his arm. “Yes, but now they are expecting me. Which means we no longer have an advantage. I may have possibly made this harder for you.”

Louis feels his smile die. “You’re right, they’ll definitely come for us with more force now.” He says, remembering the tape in his pocket, “Especially since I managed to get the evidence.”

He sees Harry look at him in his peripheral. “What is the next step to getting out of this?” Harry asks.

Louis licks his lips that suddenly feel way too dry. “I have to get the tape to the city prosecutor. I need to slip it into his hands myself or I’ll never trust it to get there.”

“This will be more difficult than retrieving the tape?” Harry says it as a statement but the lilt of his voice is questioning.

“Yes.” Louis replies. “We need to get rid of this car. Nick knows what it looks like now, by now the cops that chased us probably have the number of the plates. So we need to ditch it somewhere and find a spot to lay low.”

“I think that’s wise, laying low.”

“It’s getting late, so I doubt we can reach the prosecutor until tomorrow.” Louis says.

Harry nods. “Then it is most important for us to find somewhere to be tonight.”

“If we keep heading this direction there are some farms, we can probably ditch the car out there, but I don’t know what to do from there.” Louis bites his lip in frustration. “We won’t be able to do anything without a car, Fuck.”

Harry gives him a questioning look, “I think modern times have made people forget how to do some things.” He says vaguely, leaving Louis to puzzle together what he means.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry doesn’t mention it but he is just as blind-sided by Louis’s abilities as Louis is by his. Louis had not flinched once as that man held him. No fear seemed to show in Louis’s eyes.

Harry finds him to be quite simply amazing. Harry has persuaded Louis to stop at one of the farms they’ve come to, and to ask the farmer to take care of their vehicle. In exchange, the farmer lends them two of his horses, after Harry explains they want to ride out and stay in the woods for a night. The man thinks it’s some sort of date, and Harry lets him. Louis tells the man they’d like to be left alone, and if anyone asks after them to say he’d not seen them. The man agrees without much question.

Harry makes to offer the man some of his gold coins in return for the favors, but when Louis sees them he stops him. “Those are worth a fortune, Harry!” he exclaims.

“They’re barely worth anything, Louis.”

“Maybe so in your time, but in mine they’re very valuable. Put them back in your pockets.”

Harry does, still thinking that Louis is making a big deal over nothing, as the man comes back.

“The horses are out back, I’ve got them saddled up and ready for you.” The farmer says.

Harry nods and grabs Louis’s arm, pulling him along as they go out back. Harry is extremely proud that he managed to get them two horses, until he sees the two horses he managed to get.

They’re both gray, and look old and tired, the saddles on their backs look well worn, and the bridle straps are splitting. Harry runs a hand down one’s neck and sees that at least the horse is well groomed. They’re not the best but they’ll have to do.

“Uh, Harry.” Louis says from behind him, and Harry turns.

“Yes?”

“We really only need one horse.” Louis says. “Unless you want me injured beyond repair.”

Harry looks at him with confusion. “Do you not know how to ride?”

“Uh, no, not really.” Louis says. “And I’m not really looking to learn.”

“You have to learn. It’s something everyone must know.” Harry says in disbelief. “I will teach you.”

Louis looks at him with a small amount of panic. “Really, no. We can just ride on the same one and leave the other one here. It’ll be fine.”

Harry’s heart stutters. Perhaps, Louis is wanting closeness. Harry steps toward him and cups Louis’s face in one hand. “I know you would be more comfortable riding between my strong legs, and I’d like nothing more than to have you there, but even if I were willing to allow it,” Harry says slowly, “one of these poor beasts would not hold us.”

Harry watches Louis’s cheeks redden as the small man splutters for a response, seemingly bothered at being called out. “I’m not trying to ride with you for any other reason than not knowing how to ride alone, you arrogant twat!”

Harry smiles as Louis smacks his hand away, “Of course, not. I didn’t mean to imply you only want to be pressed up against me.” Harry says leaning down into Louis’s space. “There’ll be time enough for that later, after all.”

Louis narrows his eyes and makes to protest again, but Harry holds a hand up and cuts him off. “Come along now, Louis. These poor horses really are only capable of carrying one of us at a time. They are not as strong as you are.”

Louis clamps his mouth shut, and turns a little redder at Harry’s last remark. Harry quickly scoops him up and lifts him in one motion onto the smaller horse’s saddle. Louis squeaks and Harry keeps his hands on his waist until he’s sure Louis is balanced. He adjusts Louis’s foothold in the stirrups and hands him the reins, Harry turning and walking to his own horse. He mounts easily.

“Don’t hold the reins too tight, and your mare should follow mine just fine. I don’t think either are capable of more than a brisk trot. These beasts are old.”

“Great. Is it capable of throwing me off, then?” Louis asks, looking decidedly pale.

Harry laughs. “Not unless you press your heels into her belly. I feel that you won’t.”

Louis nods as they start moving. Harry points his horse toward the tree line and looks back to make sure Louis’s is following steadily.

Louis meets his eyes with a look of concern. “We should have gotten food from that farmer. We haven’t eaten since this morning. We didn’t even borrow more than a saddle blanket or anything. Maybe we should turn around.”

“There’s no need to go back, we have all we need.” Harry says, wondering how someone so capable can also be so helpless. “You forget I am a Musketeer, I am more than capable of feeding you and keeping you warm. On my honor, you’ll be fine.”

He watches Louis redden again and swallow tightly, before Harry turns back around on his saddle and leads them into the woods.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Louis isn’t sure what Harry keeps looking for as they ride deeper into the woods. The Musketeer keeps scanning everything around them like the trees are going to tell him some sort of secret. He’s been doing it for a good hour or so when he finally halts his horse.

“This spot is perfect.” Harry announces, dismounting.

“For what?” Louis says, looking around at where they’ve stopped.

“It’s perfect for a campsite.” Harry says, striding over to Louis’s horse and putting his big, firm hands on Louis’s waist before the smaller man can even blink. Harry lifts him off the horse with such ease that Louis’s stomach flutters a little. It’s forgotten though as soon as his feet touch the ground. His legs feel like gelatin. His hamstrings, burning and pulling from where they’ve been spread all day, and the curve of his ass burns with ache, and not the good kind.

Harry sees Louis’s wincing. “You really have not ridden before. Well, expect to be sorer by tomorrow.”

Louis doesn’t like the sound of that, and he limps over to the softest patch of ground he can find and plunks down. He watches Harry take a very frazzled looking rope from one of the saddles, and lead the horses over to a tree at the edge of the small stream that’s running to their right. He lets the horses drink as he ties them up, and heads off into the trees with no explanation.

Louis shudders as a brisk fall breeze rustles what little leaves are left on the trees around him. It sinks in that he’s stuck out here in the November air with Harry for the night. And even worse, Harry is still under the impression that Louis would like nothing more than to lie close to him and leech his warmth while in some lust-filled embrace. Harry wouldn’t be completely wrong, Louis wouldn’t mind that, but it’s something he’s trying not to actively desire. Harry’s not unattractive, no, definitely not, but he’s far too arrogant for Louis’s taste, despite the instant attraction they have that Louis’s at a loss to explain. Not to mention Harry will be leaving soon, to dart off back to his own time. Louis suddenly doesn’t like that thought, and he shakes his head to clear it.

The thought doesn’t dislodge, instead the images of everything Harry has done so far, flit around. Harry’s so polite, and he’s put Louis’s life before his own without even a thought, refusing to leave until Louis is safe. His brain darts back to their conversation the night before, where Harry had told him he’d lay down that stupid sword of his for his true love, and Louis’s gut twists. Whoever that ends up being really is lucky.

Harry comes back into view on the opposite side of the clearing holding sticks and a pile of brush. He strides over and drops the pile a few feet in front of Louis, then shrugs out of his long coat. He tosses it to the side and rubs his hands together as he crouches down next to the pile of sticks.

Louis’s eyes are immediately drawn to the way Harry’s jeans pull tight around his thighs when he crouches like that, and then to the strong line of biceps Louis knew were there but hadn’t seen, when Harry pushes up the sleeves of his white jumper. Louis groans internally, every muscle in Harry’s arm flexes as he starts twirling two sticks together between his hands.

Louis shuffles to his feet, schooling both his brain and his dick that’s suddenly trying to rise. Louis blames his year-long sexual dry spell, because there’s no other reason he should be this out of control. Harry’s off limits. They’ve both made that clear enough, with Harry’s honor and Louis’s denial. “I..uh..I’ll go gather some more wood for you.” Louis says, looking at the skyline instead of at Harry.

“There’s no need, I’ve gathered plenty.” Harry says, still completely focused on twirling the sticks. “As soon as I get this lit I can go and gather more if it’s needed. There’s no need for you to do more than sit with how sore you are.”

Louis bristles a little. “I’m not that sore, besides it’s your fault for making us ride stupid horses. I can get more firewood and save you the trouble.”

“It’s no trouble, it’s my duty, there’s no need to anger your delicate muscles any further when we may not even need more.”

“ _Delicate?!”_ Louis’s eyes snap back down to Harry. Was the Musketeer implying that Louis’s soft? “My muscles are not delicate!”

Harry stops twirling the sticks and turns to Louis, his brows drawing together and his pink lips turning down into a frown. “I have offended you.” Harry rises from his crouch and lays a hand on Louis’s shoulder. “I did not mean it in a way that implies you are weak. I simply meant that your muscles are tender from riding, and you’ll thank me later if all you do now is sit and rest.”

That makes sense. Louis still huffs and shrugs Harry’s hand off his shoulder, the heat where it was stays. “Fine.”

Louis sits back down and watches as Harry turns back to the kindling and starts back. It’s going to take forever to start a fire that way. Louis remembers that he usually carries a lighter for the days he’s stressed and fancies a smoke, and shuffles around, patting down his jacket pockets until he feels it. “I think I can make that a little easier.” He says, pulling it out.

Harry’s head swivels toward him and he eyes the little grey lighter in Louis’s hand curiously. “What is that?”

“Another new age contraption that makes things too easy.” Louis says, smirking as he sort of crawls forward, coming up in a crouch right next to Harry. “You’re really going to love this next bit.”

Louis flicks his thumb on the lighter and the little flame shoots out, Harry’s eyes lighting up with it. Louis touches it to the dry brush at the base of the pile and it goes up within seconds. Harry drops the sticks he’s holding and gasps.

“That is wonderful!” Louis sits down and scoots back to where he was before and watches the fire fully take hold. Harry shuffles back and sits down beside him. “Show me it again.”

Louis brings the lighter back up between them and slowly rolls his thumb down the flint wheel. Harry’s eyes light up just as much as they did the first time as the little flame comes to life. “You see, Harry,” Louis explains, “inside this little thing is a flammable fluid, and when I press the wheel down some of it goes up a tube and a small flint strike at the top and lights it. Viola! Portable fire starter.”

Louis lets the flame die and Harry reaches out and takes the lighter. Louis watches him give it a few tries before he gets it. Harry holds it tight in front of his own face, mesmerized still. “There are so many strange and useful things from this time. You must teach me how to use more of them.” Harry says.

Louis laughs. “Well if I start teaching you how to use more modern devices you’re going to have to teach me how to use that blasted sword you’re so good at swinging around.”

Louis’s joking really, but Harry lets the lighter die and hands it back to Louis with an excited smile. “That’s an excellent idea. Someone as brave as you would make an excellent swordsman.”

Louis pockets the lighter. “I wasn’t serious.” He says. “I don’t think I have the right set of skills to wield a sword.”

“Well we shall find out,” Harry insists, getting to his feet. “but first I have to seek dinner.” Harry glances around the woods where the afternoon light is slowly fading. “I saw signs of wildlife as we came through, so it should be no struggle.”

Louis cringes at the thought of eating some of the things that are crawling around in this forest. “Please don’t bring back anything weird.”

Harry looks at him as he tugs his coat back on, “I promise I’ll bring back only the finest game for you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry is gone for quite some time, and Louis lets a little bit of worry creep into his brain. He’s gone to check the horses a few times and dusk is approaching. Louis doesn’t fancy sitting on the ground alone come nighttime. He imagines Harry is probably struggling out there somewhere, swinging his sword at deer and rabbits. Louis should have offered to go find food and use his gun.

Worst case scenario, Harry’s gotten lost or hurt and Louis will have to wait out the night and go after him in the morning. He sighs and pokes at the fire with a stick to keep it going. He really hopes this isn’t going to be the worst case scenario.

A rustle and a grunt startle him, as Harry appears holding a wild turkey big enough to feed a small village. The feathers are gone and it almost looks like a turkey you’d get from the store, except longer, less shiny, and with a bit more visible blood.

Louis watches as Harry wields a dagger Louis didn’t know he had and starts cutting into the bird. “What are you doing to it?” He asks.

Harry looks up at him finally. “I’m cutting it into smaller portions to make it easier to cook.”

“Oh.” Louis had figured they’d set up some stick contraption and roast it whole like in the movies. He guesses that isn’t exactly plausible, though, as he watches harry skewer the smaller bits and holds them to cook over the fire.

Harry turns them over and over, cooking the turkey steadily and evenly, and Louis’s stomach growls when the first scent of it wafts toward him. It smells delicious, and when Harry hands him a perfectly browned piece, Louis doesn’t hesitate to tear into it. It’s just turkey, he reminds himself, even though he’s aware of its carcass laying off to the side of their campsite where Harry had tossed it.

It’s actually delicious. The flavor is fresh and not gamey at all, and juice floods his mouth as he bites down. “This is really good.” He tells Harry.

Harry seems just as happy with his own piece and nods. “It is.”

They’re quiet as they eat and Louis starts to wonder exactly how Harry managed to wrangle a turkey.

“How did you kill this with your sword?” Harry stops chewing and looks at Louis like he’s just asked something incredibly stupid. He probably has. “I mean, I know you’re really good with that weapon and all but I’m having a hard time imagining you fighting a turkey with it.”

“I used this.” Harry laughs and leans down, pulling the dagger from earlier out of his boot and waving it around before putting it back. That leaves Louis to imagine him wrestling the turkey to the ground before slitting its throat, but Harry quickly adds, “It’s an excellent throwing knife.”

“Oh, you can throw knives? That makes sense.” Louis mumbles as he finishes his meat, feeling a little silly.

Harry finishes his as well and gets up to once again shed his coat. He draws his rapier from his side and lets it glint in the firelight. “How do you feel about a lesson?”

Louis gets up, feeling the pull in his legs still. “I thought you said I was too sore to do anything but rest.”

“You’ve rested a while,” Harry points out, “and I won’t make this too strenuous. Come on.”

Louis steps forward and reaches for the sword but Harry jerks it away and tuts. “How am I supposed to learn if you won’t let me touch the sword?” Louis asks.

“With a practice sword.” Harry says, motioning to a long narrow stick that lay across the ground. “If you can get good with that, I might trust you to wield my rapier.”

It doesn’t escape Louis’s notice how much that sounds like an innuendo as he bends to grab the ugly stick. “I guess this is safer since I don’t know what I’m doing. I wouldn’t want to poke my own eye out or cut my arm off.”

Harry smirks, eying Louis, “Yes, it would be a shame to lose such nice features.”

Louis tries not to let his cheeks heat and points the stick at Harry. “So what now?”

Harry lunges a foot forward, thrusting his sword out to meet Louis’s sad little stick with graceful balance. “Now, you learn.”

Louis discovers quickly that wielding a sword isn’t as simple as Harry makes it look. Harry demonstrates artful and beautifully smooth moves for Louis to replicate, but Louis never quite gets it. To his defense, he’s only hit Harry in the face a couple times and his own limbs only once. By the time they finish he feels like he’s mastered at least three of the swings.

“Alright, enough.” Harry finally says, closing a hand around Louis’s branch and tossing it to the side. “Let’s try it with the real sword.”

Louis is out of breath and he knows it shows on his face, while Harry just hands him the sword looking like he hasn’t exerted himself no more than it takes to raise an arm. It’s just another reminder of how incredibly fit Harry is, like Louis needs to be reminded.

Louis closes a hand around the hilt, and Harry wraps his fingers around his, guiding Louis’s grip.. “You ready?”

Louis nods, too breathless to answer right away. Harry steps a full six feet away from him and Louis snorts. “Trying to get out of the danger zone, Styles?”

One corner of Harry’s mouth turns up. “I don’t want to get in the way of you and your pretend opponent. Especially since I feel you’ll imagine a certain crime boss.”

Louis swings the sword low at the air in front of him. “You’re not wrong, that was my attempt at castrating him.”

Harry smirks mischievously. “You’re so bloodthirsty for someone so small.”

“You could easily take his place.” Louis says darkly, swinging low again. “This sword is a lot heavier than that stick.”

Harry just watches as Louis brings it down in a sweeping arch and tries to stay balanced on his feet. “Do not forget to dodge and block. Parry as well. Your… form looks good.” Harry says, slowly eyeing Louis’s body instead of his sword technique.

Louis fumbles and it’s like he can feel Harry’s eyes on him. “I wish you were going to be around longer so I could get more than one lesson.” Louis says, biting his lip. The realization that he really _likes_ Harry is still not sitting well with him.

“I wish I could as well.” Harry says softly.

“What was your life like before I pulled you out of it?” Louis asks for the first time. He lowers the rapier, feeling finished.

“My entire life has been one grand adventure.” Harry is still speaking softer than normal as he takes the sword from Louis and props it against a tree. “It’s an odd thing to be both English and a Musketeer. I traveled the country as a hired hand before the French King swept me into his service. He’d heard tales of my conquests from an old client and decided that, English or not, he wanted me with the Musketeers.” Harry tells. “Soon after I found myself envied and admired by an entire country. It was refreshing.”

Louis almost wishes he could see Harry in full glory, fighting enemies in some French village or other. “Do you have any family? Will they notice you’re missing?”

Harry’s face drops a bit. “I had a sister, but she died a few years after my parents. Both died of a fever when I was about five, and she died from a fall when I was about eight. I was sent to live with a cousin and he raised me as a mercenary. He was killed shortly before I became a Musketeer, so really I have no one but myself and my duty.”

“What about one of those lovers you mentioned yesterday? Did you leave one of them behind to miss you?” Louis winces internally at how insensitive he sounds.

Harry shrugs but his smile returns. “When I find love, I will abandon my duty and love will become my purpose. As I told you before, my true love would take precedence in my life. I would put nothing and no one before them.” Harry pauses. “There have been many, many lovers, but I have not yet loved.”

“ _’Many, many lovers’,_ ” Louis repeats, smirking, “makes you sound like a bit of a sleaze, Harry.”

Harrys smile turns to a smirk of his own. “When you live a life like mine you’re unsure what day will be your last. You tend to take advantages when an offer presents itself. Seeing as you lead a similarly dangerous life I’d think you’d understand.”

Louis’s smirk falters. “I guess I have…taken advantages myself a few times.” He wonders what would happen if Harry became one of those advantages.

Harry steps closer to him, and leans down to speak against the shell of Louis’s ear. “You seem tired, and it’s well into night now. We should lie down.”

Louis throat goes dry again, which is something it has a bad habit of doing around Harry. “Okay.”

Harry stokes the fire, and folds his jacket up to use as a pillow. Louis would do the same with his own but his pockets are full of things he doesn’t want to lay his head on. He takes it off and lays it to the side, well within reach in case he suddenly needs his gun. Louis sits down as Harry walks off, coming back a moment later with one of the saddle blankets. He lays down beside Louis and covers himself with it, holding one corner up and raising his eyebrows. It’s an invitation to crawl under the blanket, Louis realizes.

Louis eyes him a bit warily for a moment until Harry huffs, “You have nothing to fear from me, Louis. It will work better in this cold if we are against one another.”

“I know,” Louis says a bit defensively, “body heat and all that.” It’s not like Louis is afraid to be pressed against Harry all night. Harry has pretty explicitly vowed that nothing will happen between them. _Yet,_ his hopeful and traitorous brain supplies. Louis can do this.

“Louis?”

Harry’s still staring at him, waiting patiently for Louis to move under the blanket. Louis sighs and maneuvers under it, laying his head on Harry’s coat and turning his back to the Musketeer.

Harry snakes an arm over Louis’s waist as the blanket corner drops and tugs Louis closer, even as Louis stiffens. “Goodnight, Lou.”

“Goodnight.” Louis whispers through clenched teeth. It’s going to be a long night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Louis blinks awake in the light of dawn to find his head no longer pillowed on the coat, but instead on something much firmer. It takes him a few moments to realize it's Harry’s chest. Louis tries to move off of him but he can’t because Harry’s arms are wrapped firmly around him—one hand cupping the back of Louis’s neck—and their legs are tangled together. He can raise his head a bit but otherwise he’s trapped.

Louis let his eyes fall back shut for a moment. Harry’s chest is so warm and solid. Hell, Harry’s whole body is warm and solid and Louis is suddenly aware he can feel every inch of it.

He lifts his head again trying to wriggle free before he develops a situation, but Harry’s eyes open and Louis freezes as they meet his. They’re very green, and they sparkle as they reflect the autumn sky above them.

Harry seems to be searching Louis’s face, and Louis can feel the heat where Harry is still gripping his neck. “Eyes like the ocean.” Harry mutters.

Their faces are very close together, and Louis thinks briefly about his morning breath, as he feels Harry tugging him down. He goes without much resistance as Harry brings Louis’s mouth down to his own. Harry’s arm on Louis’s waist tightens as they kiss heatedly, mouths pushing frantically at each other until they open. Then it's Harry’s tongue striking up against the roof of Louis’s mouth, and Louis dragging his against it. He’s never been kissed like this. Not even the first time Harry had kissed him. Harry’s tongue teases behind his teeth and against his lips and Louis quivers. Harry pushes their bodies impossibly closer together and Louis shakes with how much he truly wants this man. It hits him full force in the chest like a punch and he gasps into Harry’s mouth. Harry responds by kissing him deeper.

Louis is almost completely on top of Harry already, but he moves the rest of the way when he slides to straddle him. Harry moves with him, rising and barely letting their mouths separate. Louis settles fully onto Harry’s lap and moans when he feels their erections press together. Harry answers with a noise that rumbles in his chest as he gasps and brings his hands to Louis’s shoulders, pushing to separate them.

Louis chases his mouth as he pulls away, then leans back blinking. Both their chests are heaving and Harry’s pupils are blown wide as he pants, “I must resist you, but god is it not so hard to do.”

“Then don’t.” Louis says hurriedly and dives back to kiss Harry again, but Harry holds him off.

He looks at Louis and shudders as if chilled. “I cannot. As much as I desire it I cannot. My code as a Musketeer holds me. I vowed to be your protector and nothing more.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Louis says, his erection pressing against his zipper practically screaming at him.

Harry shakes his head and moves Louis off of him, “I am not. I have never desired someone so much, but I cannot be distracted. If I let this happen I will want to do nothing else, think about nothing else, and that can’t happen.”

Louis stands up tossing the blanket off his shoulders, his boner deflating a bit with anger and frustration. “Fine. It’s not like I really want to anyway.”

Harry scrambles up and tries to put a hand on Louis’s shoulder, but Louis moves away, “I am bound by honor—

“Screw your blasted honor, that’s all you ever seem to talk about.” Louis hisses, stomping away from him. He’s mad at himself for wanting Harry more than he’s mad at Harry for denying him.

“I do not mean to, it’s just—”

Harry tries but Louis cuts him off again. “We need to go. I have to get to the prosecutor so we can get this whole mess sorted and send you back home.”

Harry looks wounded at how vehemently Louis says the last part, but Louis just keeps stomping toward the horses. “We need to find another car. We can’t use Zayn and Liam’s even if no one found it yet. The cops have probably already traced the plates and called them about it….”

Louis trails off as a wave of sudden horror washes over him. _The plates._ If the cops had had time to see the plates then Nick’s men did as well. “Oh no. Oh _fuck!_ ” Louis doubles over with panic.

Harry is at his side immediately, concern washing his features. “Are you okay? Is something hurting?”

“Nick saw the license plate, him and his men too. They can track down the owner of that car easily even if his dirty cops didn’t do it for him.” Louis gasps.

Louis sees understanding register on Harry’s face. “Your friends?”

“They’ll be in danger. I have to call them, they need to get somewhere safe or Nick will use them against me.” Louis says, a knot of dread settling firmly into the pit of his stomach. As he grabs his jacket and scrambles for his cell only to discover it’s dead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry views Louis as a mass of shifting emotions. The man denies wanting Harry but his actions make it all too clear that he wants Harry almost as much as Harry wants him. Louis angers at reason, his stubbornness not letting him understand Harry’s side of things. Then all of his anger falls away to panic just as suddenly.  Harry understands, he does. He doesn’t wish for Zayn and Liam to be harmed. They were both beyond kind to him.

He watches Louis as they ride back through the woodland. Louis’s eyes are pinched at the corners with worry, and his mouth is drawn into a tight line. He’s a strong man and Harry can’t help but admire his little qualities. The way his jaw clenches when he’s irritated, the way his eyes light up when he realizes something, the tilt of his head when he’s curious. Harry has noticed it all. Even now when he’s worried he’s beautiful.

Harry has felt passing feelings with many people, lust, want, and curiosity. All of it pales in comparison to the way Louis makes him feel. It’s stronger, something deeper tracing the edges of it, and it confuses Harry, set him on edge. He’s not used to feeling unbalanced when dealing with attraction, but the force of desire that surges through him when he and Louis kiss has threatened to knock him off his toes.

He hates to admit that part of the reason he’d stopped their tryst this morning was out of fear. Harry is afraid that if they finally give in, the feeling will suddenly just vanish. That’s what normally happens to the things Harry feels for people. They fade. But nothing is the same this time and he desperately wants to keep it, to keep Louis. That’s what really terrifies him.

They finally arrive back to the farm and the farmer greets them by the barn. Louis gets off his mare on his own before it even comes to a complete stop. Harry watches as he rushes to the farmer. “Sir, I really need to use your phone if that’s alright.” Louis says, and Harry can hear the panic bleeding through.

Harry gets off his horse just as the farmer waves them both inside. “Of course that’s alright. I hope you enjoyed your ride. You don’t look too put out.”

Harry stands with the farmer while Louis talks on the phone in another room. Harry can hear the octave of his voice rise and fall but can’t make out what he’s saying. Harry and the farmer stand quietly without speaking until Louis reenters the room.

He stands in front of Harry for a moment, pale and stricken. “Nick Grimshaw answered the phone.”

Harry reaches out and pulls Louis into a tight embrace. He doesn’t understand the concept of a phone still, but he knows that Nick answering one meant for Liam or Zayn to answer is not a good sign.

“He’s at their house, Harry.” Louis says into his shoulder. “I was too late and now he’ll kill them too unless I hand over the tape.”

Harry vows silently to not let that happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They didn’t have time to search for another car. Louis throws the Honda into reverse and backs out of the farmer’s driveway. If any cops happen to recognize it on the highway, he’ll gladly let them chase him all the way to Liam and Zayn’s.

“It’s going to be fine.” Harry says, drawing Louis’s gaze momentarily from the roadway, as he turns the car and puts it in drive.

Louis can see the concern in Harry’s eyes, but he knows it’s not for Zayn and Liam, it’s for Louis. “They could be dead by the time we get there.”

“Don’t say that.” Harry says firmly. “This man, Grimshaw, he is not stupid. He wants the evidence we have against him. He will keep them alive.” The ‘ _until he has it’_ goes unspoken.

Louis does his best to refocus on the road, he’s already speeding and they’ve barely reached a main road. Despite his earlier thoughts he really can’t show up with cops in tow. Nick probably has a good portion of his men at the house and Louis doesn’t want to be in the middle of a standoff.

“How will we behave when we get there?” Harry asks.

“I’ll have to go straight to Nick and give up the tape. I don’t have a choice.” Louis answers.

“We do have a choice,” Harry says, “but we will have to make it with caution. I do not think this man will let any of us live once he has the evidence in hand.”

Louis grits his teeth. He hasn’t considered that, but Harry is right. There is no way Grimshaw will let the air remain in Louis’s lungs since Louis can tell anyone what he’d heard on the tape. Nick would off everyone else as collateral. _Fuck_.

“He knows I know too much, and he’d kill Zayn and Liam so they couldn’t help me identify him.” Louis risks a glance at Harry. “He’d kill _you_ for besting him yesterday.”

“Then we shouldn’t give him the tape.”

“He’s here with god only knows how many of his men, and he’s probably got Liam and Zayn both tied down, doing god only knows what to them. We are screwed if we give him the tape and we are screwed if we don’t.” Louis wants to bang his head on the steering wheel.

“We will find a way to save everyone and keep the tape. Do you have no faith in your Musketeer?” Harry says putting a hand on Louis’s forearm.

Louis sighs, the _your Musketeer_ echoing briefly in his mind _._ He has too much faith in the man beside him probably. He has no idea when he stopped doubting Harry, but as Harry comforts him Louis realizes he trusts Harry more than anyone else in this world currently.

“I guess we’ll have to figure something out.” Louis concedes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Louis ditches the car almost two kilometers from the house. They walk down the vacant woodland road leading out to the creepy manor. When they finally near it, Louis sees the same black car from yesterday sitting next to the house empty. The Land Rover that had stalked his apartment is watching the front door. The two goons inside are plainly visible and have the vehicle running and the radio on.

“They’ll have a man at the front and the back door.” Louis tells Harry from where they’re crouched in some bushes. “I’ll have to incapacitate the two in the car before we can move in.”

“How?”

“Part of a hose and some duct tape should do.” Louis answers, looking around. The tool shed is off to the side of the house where they’re hidden and Louis starts to head toward it.

“Where are you going?” Harry asks, grabbing Louis’s arm and yanking him back. “Is it not safer if we are together?”

Louis looks at him blankly. “I think we’ve both proved that we’re big girls now, Harry. You stay here and watch. I’m just going over there to that shed.”

Harry releases his arm reluctantly. “Okay. I believe you are capable, just be careful. Please.” And before Louis can move Harry’s grabbing his neck and kissing him hard and fast.

Louis blinks when Harry pulls away and gives his head a shake to clear it. “What was that for?”

Harry smiles. “We will save your friends, stop doubting it.”

He says it with so much faith that Louis has to believe it. Harry’s green eyes are blazing and his jaw is set with determination. Louis knows that Harry will probably save them all or die trying.

Louis pulls away again and moves toward the shed. When he reaches the side of it he turns back to see if Harry is still in place and gasps. Harry is hanging from the lower limb of the tree they’d been under, swinging back and forth to gain momentum. Louis moves to rush back and pull him down but Harry lets go of the branch on an upswing and flips fluidly in the air. He lands softly on the edge of the roof that juts out over the side porch and smooths his coat with an air of grace.

Louis is speechless. He remembers the guards at the bank talking about Harry’s acrobatics when he’d escaped them, but Louis had never seen it in action. Anyone else would have fallen and bashed in their skull. Shuddering, Louis glances at the Land Rover, the two men inside remain oblivious to what just happened.

Louis thanks his lucky stars as he rounds to the front of the shed and sneaks inside. He lets his eyes adjust to the dim lighting and quickly locates a hose. Another quick scan produces some garden shears which he quickly snips off about four feet of the hose with. That should do it.

He pockets some tape from a shelf and drags the hose piece back to the bushes. He checks again to make sure the henchmen in the Land Rover aren’t paying attention before he sneaks up to the vehicle. He thanks every deity he can think of that they’ve left the car running.

Louis sticks one end the hose in the exhaust pipe and gets the tape out, wrapping it up tightly and biting it off. He crawls around to the driver’s side and wedges his way under the car the best he can, grabbing for the other end of the hose bit. When he gets it in his hand the shoves it firmly into the air vent, putting a few pieces of tape over it so it won’t fall back out, and then removes himself, creeping back to the bushes below the tree.

He grins at his handiwork when he’s a safe distance away. God, he’s good.

He looks up and sees a length of rope dangling from the same bit of roof Harry had flipped onto. Harry had made sure Louis had a way to get on the roof.

 _Damn,_ Harry was pretty good too.

Louis grabs it, remembering all those times he’d had to climb a rope in gym class. Finally the practice was paying off. When he gets on the roof, he quickly climbs through the window Harry has left open and into the attic. He creeps across the attic floor and down the stairs as quietly as he can. Any small noise could alert anyone.

As he reaches the lower hallway and is creeping past the bedrooms, one of the doors open and he’s dragged inside. A large hand covers his mouth and he recognizes Harry’s broad chest when he’s pulled against it. Harry gives him a moment to calm then lets go.

“Have you found Liam and Zayn?” Louis asks frantically.

Harry nods then speaks quietly next to Louis’s ear, “They are in the next room. The criminal is with them. The only other two in the house are the guards at the doors. We can eliminate them at the same time to avoid one warning the other.”

Louis nods along, trying to form a plan. “That way they also can’t warn Nick.” He whispers.

“The men in the car we will have to eliminate last.” Harry says.

“Uh,” Louis doesn’t know how to explain the process of what he’d done to the car, “They should be sleeping soundly by the time we are finished.”

Harry frowns. “Explain. Please?”

Louis shuffles his feet silently. “There is a way to poison the air in vehicles, so I toyed with it a little bit. They’ll be unconscious in a short while and won’t know what hit them.”

Harry’s eyes dart over Louis’s face. “You are truly brilliant.”

“Glad you think so,” Louis says, “but we don’t really have all day to stand around and talk.”

“I’ll take the one at the back door.” Harry says. Louis has no doubt Harry has already scouted the men and decided that that one is the more dangerous, taking the task for himself. Louis doesn’t necessarily mind.

“We will have to do whatever we do to them quietly and swiftly.” Louis says. “Then we can meet back at the bottom of the main stairs.”

Louis slides opens the door quietly and ducks out, Harry on his heels, and they nod at each other at the bottom of the stairs before going in opposite directions. Louis takes his gun from the inside of his jacket, checking to make sure it’s loaded and keeping it in front of him as he creeps into the living room.

The guy has his back to him and is looking out the window Louis had sat by when he’d accidentally spelled Harry into the future. Louis creeps right up on him without the guy even noticing, but right as Louis lifts his gun to strike him over the head with it he hears a grunt from the back of the house followed by the thud of a body hitting the ground.

The man in front of him hears it too and he’s half turned toward Louis when Louis whips him in the temple with the butt of his gun. The guy drops like a damp rag, and Louis pockets his gun and pulls out the remaining duct tape. He covers the guy’s mouth and wraps his hands and feet up nice and tight, before he feels secure.

Harry is waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. They tiptoe up them side by side, both pausing at the top.

“Now what?” Louis says. He doesn’t have a solid plan of attack for confronting Nick.

“Now, I am heading back out onto the roof.” Harry says. “And you should pay a visit to your friends.”

Louis thinks he sees what Harry’s planning and nods. “Okay.”

Harry places a hand on Louis’s cheek and leans in. For a second Louis thinks they’re going to kiss again, but instead Harry says, “Make sure to stay clear of the window. I have no desire to lose you.” Then he’s moving on down the hallway and away from Louis.

Louis frowns. Harry doesn’t want to lose him, but they’ll lose each other when this is all over anyway. Harry will return to his own time. Louis knows Harry had simply meant he doesn’t want to see Louis hurt, but Louis feels like he’s in for a world of hurt either way.

Louis gives Harry a few more moments to get in position for whatever he’s planning, then he knocks on the door of the room Liam and Zayn are being held in.

There’s a thump on the other side and Nick growls, “What do you want?”

Louis clears his throat. “I want to give you the evidence you requested I bring, and I want you to release my friends.”

The door swings open and Louis comes face to face with Nick. “How did you get up here?” He points his gun at Louis. “How’d you get past my men?”

“They sent me up.” Louis tries to sound as convincing as possible.

Nick eyes him suspiciously before grabbing him and pulling him into the room, shutting the door behind them and locking it. The first thing Louis sees is Zayn and Liam tied to back to back chairs, gags in their mouth. How very cliché.

Louis only has a few seconds to look at them before Nick is slamming him back into the wall, removing Louis’s gun from his pocket and tossing it aside. “Give me my tape!”

Before Louis can react, the window behind them shatters and Harry swings through it, landing in a crouch, sword drawn. All hell breaks loose.

Nick whirls around and fires his gun without a single thought. It feels like time slows down. Zayn’s who’s facing them jerks forward, sending a fierce look at the gun and muttering something around his gag. Louis stays pressed against the wall in stunned silence, he can feel his heartbeat hammering as he watches the bullet tear into Harry’s left shoulder. He falls to the ground with a scream and his sword comes flying toward Louis.

Louis lunges out and catches it by the hilt just as Nick turns back to him. Louis swishes out with one of the thrusts Harry had taught him and slices Nick’s gun hand. Nick’s gun skitters across the floor and he lunges after it. Louis lashes out with the flat side of the blade and whacks Nick right on the ass, sending him face first to the floorboards.

Harry reaches out with his uninjured arm and grabs the fallen gun. He trains it on Nick. “It’s over.” The Musketeer says, and his voice is deep gravel. “We win.”

Louis drops the sword and rushes to him, pulling him into a sitting position. Louis goes to apply pressure over the wound where blood is seeping out and staining the white jumper but Harry shakes his head still focused on Nick. “Untie Zayn and tie this one up, then untie Liam.”  

Louis nods and scrambles to where Zayn is straining against the ropes. He understands that Harry is going to possibly pass out soon. He undoes the ropes and Zayn reaches up and removes his own gag. “I’ll untie Liam. You deal with him.” He says, motioning to Nick.

Louis doesn’t bother trying to get Nick into the chair, it’s quicker to bend his legs up and bind his hands and feet together behind his back like a pig. It’s also much more satisfying. Nick starts cussing and screaming for his men and Louis stuffs the gag in his mouth, bringing it around his head to tie it. “It’s too late for screaming, Grimshaw. It’s already over.”

There’s a thud behind him, and he turns to see Harry has lost consciousness. “Fuck.” Louis runs to him and immediately starts applying pressure to the wound. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

Zayn gets Liam completely untied and comes over and puts a hand on Louis’s shoulder. “Stop panicking. The bullet didn’t hit anything vital. I made sure of it.”

“How do you mean you made sure of it you haven’t even looked at him?” Louis says, fisting Harry’s jumper and pressing it into the wound the best he can to staunch the flow.

Zayn lets go of his shoulder and he feels Liam step up by them. “Zayn nudged the bullet. I felt when he did it even though I had my back turned.”

“You forget what I am, Louis.” Zayn says. “I pushed the bullet upward with magic. I made it so it would only hit the fleshy part of his shoulder and nothing vital.”

“Harry doesn’t really have any fleshy parts.” Louis says, pulling back and examining the wound around the shirt. Sure enough the bullet has only went into muscle and tissue as far as he can tell. “You’re right though.”

“Of course I’m right.” Zayn counters. “How can you still doubt magic when you have a bleeding Musketeer from the seventeenth century lying on the floor in front of you?”

Liam hands Louis a cloth, and Louis presses it to the wound and puts one hand on Harry’s cheek. “If magic were real….” He trails off.

“What, Louis? If magic were real, what?” Zayn huffs.

Louis closes his eyes. “If magic were real he’d stay.”

Louis stomach churns. It’s finally over. Nick is effectively caught and Louis can turn the evidence over to the prosecutor. He’s safe. Now, Harry can go back to his own time. Back to his life. Louis knew it was coming, but the burn behind his eyes threatens to turn to tears anyway.

“Liam,” He says, “Can you call the police, and the prosecutor, and an ambulance. Maybe the ambulance first.”

Liam nods. “We won’t need an ambulance. Zayn and I can tend that wound just fine.”

Louis opens his mouth to protest but Zayn speaks first. “Don’t spit one more word of doubt in us or I swear to all my gods, Louis, I’ll smack you senseless. Harry can’t go to a hospital anyway, there’s no record of his existence.”

Louis lowers his head. “I didn’t think of that.”

“I know.” Zayn says softly.

Between the three of them they manage to get Harry on the bed across the room. He regains consciousness while they were doing it but he stays silent and doesn’t protest, wincing slightly when they touch his shoulder.

In a few minutes sirens come screeching down the road and Louis is washed with relief. Nick and his men will be out of the house soon, and hopefully behind bars forever.

Zayn and Liam go downstairs briefly and Zayn comes back with one of his concoctions. Louis watches as he strips Harry of the jumper and starts applying the stuff to the wound. The bleeding stops almost immediately.

Louis leans over and sniffs the jar. It smells like mint. “What even is this stuff?”

“That’s my secret.” Zayn says stoically. “Maybe one day I’ll show you if you ever submit to training.”

Harry, who’s still awake, winces as Zayn goes in to retrieve the bullet now that the bleeding has stopped. “You couldn’t have used some of your lovely magic to do this part?” Harry asks through gritted teeth.

Zayn just laughs and holds up the offending object for Harry to see. “It wasn’t in very deep. I’ll go get some bandages.”

Louis sits down on the bed as Zayn leaves and instinctively moves a lock of hair off of Harry’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

A grin splits its way across Harry’s face. “I have been much more seriously injured than this. This is nothing.” He reaches his uninjured arm up and runs a finger along Louis’s cheek bone. “However, I like the way you look when you are worried about me.”

Louis laughs. “You never give up the flirting, do you, Styles?”

“Not with you.” Harry says softly, his hand dropping back to his side. “You’re no longer under my protection you know. So my honor is not in danger.”

Louis meets his eyes and he can see the emotion and the desire raging there to match his own. “Unfortunately you’ve went and gotten yourself shot and now there’s a hole in your magnificent chest.” Louis teases.

“My magnificent shoulder,” Harry corrects, “I do not really require use of it for what I want.”

Louis hears footsteps thundering up the steps and remembers Nick who’s still bound and gagged on the floor. “What you want will have to wait, we have company.”

Louis turns to face the door right as the first cop bursts through it with his gun drawn. “You can put that down.” Louis tells him. “The bad guy is the one tied up like a prized goat on the floor in front of you.” He nods his head to Grimshaw and reaches into his pocket, retrieving the tape and tossing it onto the floor in front of the officers. “Every bit of evidence you’ll need against him is on that.”

The first officer lowers his gun and the one behind him picks up the tape. Louis adds, “Oh, and you might want to call an ambulance for the two outside in the Land Rover. They’re on their way into a carbon monoxide coma as we speak.”

The cop in front heads out the door, and the one with the tape makes to follow, but Louis jumps off the bed and stops her. “Actually,” He says, reaching for the tape. “I’d like to give this to the prosecutor myself, if that’s alright.”

The cop nods, and then follows her partner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prosecutor Cowell is a round, middle aged, and somewhat terrifying man. He shows up just as the last two henchmen are being hauled out in an ambulance. He goes over everything with Louis twice, before he insists Louis come with him.

Louis shakes his head. “I need to stay and make sure Harry is alright. You have the tape now, I’m done.”

Mr. Cowell eyes him tiredly. “You’ll have to testify eventually.”

“I’m aware, and when the time comes I shall.”

“I’m afraid I still need you to come with me. I need your official statement signed off at the police headquarters, and I want you to take a look at some photos. I think I may know who a few of the men on Grimshaw’s payroll are.”

Louis shakes his head again. “I really can’t.”

Zayn and Liam come up to them then and Zayn says, “Go with him, Louis. Harry’s upstairs and he’s not going anywhere just yet. I’ll make sure he’s fine.”

Liam nods, “Don’t forget, we have things we have to do later.” He says pointedly, reminding Louis that they still need to send Harry back.

“Okay.” Louis sighs. “Just don’t do anything without me. Please.”

He’s not really ready to say goodbye to Harry, but he wants to be there when he goes.

Zayn laughs a little. “We can’t do anything without you. You cast the original spell, remember? So don’t worry.”

He pushes Louis off toward where Cowell is leaving, and Louis goes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It feels like an eternity before Louis gets to leave the police station. It’s almost dark when he finally gets back to the house. Big gray clouds are rolling in the sky overhead and they match Louis’s mood perfectly. He figures he’ll head upstairs and find Liam and Zayn all set up with everything for Harry’s return.

It’s still a mild surprise when Louis opens the front door and sees tall rows of candles forming a path across the floor. They alternate pink and red and the scent of lavender wafts up from them as Louis walks in. He’s never seen so many candles lit at the same time and he’s careful not to knock any over as he walks among them.

He takes off his shoes and sits them across the candle line near the door, then he shrugs off his jacket and carefully hangs it on a coat rack. “Zayn!” he calls out.

No response. The candle path leads up the stairs and Louis sighs as he follows it, mentally preparing himself for the ritual to come. At the top of the stairs the candle path continues down the hall then forks right, heading into the open door of the guest bedroom. He follows it slowly.

The red and pink candles swallow every surface in the room except for the bed and the side table. He still doesn’t see anyone until Harry steps forward out of the shadows. He crosses the room slowly to Louis, He’s still shirtless with a bandage now covering his shoulder. Louis is speechless at seeing him standing there. Harry has a _magnificent chest_ indeed, Louis notes as the candle light bounces off of Harry’s skin. He’s got his rapier in hand as he reaches Louis, stopping to kneel down.

Harry balances the sword on his palms and raises it upwards like an offering. “I want you to have my, sword. It is my gift to you, Louis.”

He lays it down at Louis’s feet and rises, and suddenly Louis understands. This is the final grand seduction. Harry’s finally submitting and giving in to their shared desires. It sends a thrill through Louis that’s only dampened by the thought that this is also Harry’s way of saying goodbye. They’d have tonight to remember each other by, and then it’s done forever.

Louis looks at the sword at his feet when he feels his eyes start to burn. “Where are Liam and Zayn?” He asks, his voice starting to shake.

Harry hooks a finger under his chin and lifts Louis’s face back up. “They decided to go out for the evening.” His voice is low, tender and deep and it makes Louis want to melt.

Louis looks around at all the candles. “You sure know how to pull off a grand seduction scheme. No wonder you’ve had so many lovers.” It’s meant to sound light but Louis’s voice breaks.

Harry shakes his head. “I have never wished to seduce anyone this way. This is all for you and only you.”

Louis blinks, hoping he’s not crying, though he feels like he his. Harry searches his face. “Louis, why do you look so sad?”

 _Why?_ Maybe because he’s only now realizing just how much he doesn’t want to let Harry go. And it fucking _hurts._ Harry’s the first person that’s ever made Louis feel safe. He wishes that he didn’t want someone who has to go away. It’s been three days but Louis feels like he’s known Harry for much longer, like maybe Harry walked right out of one of Louis’s past lives and into this one.  It feels like his chest is being ripped apart with the realization that he’s falling in love with Harry. Louis _loves_ Harry.

“It doesn’t matter. Just kiss me.” He says, sliding his arms around Harry’s waist.

Harry does just that, his mouth latching onto Louis’s with the same fever it had in the forest. Louis’s lips part to invite Harry in and his breath shutters as they reach the same slide and caress they had before, their tongue locking them together as they stumble toward the bed.

Harry doesn’t stop kissing him as he tugs away Louis’s clothes, kissing down his jaw, over his collarbones, pausing to nip and suck on all of Louis’s tender edges. Louis sighs as Harry kisses lower over his chest, down to his stomach, twisting as Harry sucks a mark right below his navel.

Harry pops the button on Louis’s pants with one hand. Louis can feel himself twitch with anticipation as Harry’s face hovers, but Harry just kisses his way back up to Louis’s mouth as he unzips Louis’s pants. He licks over Louis’s bottom lip as he shoves the jeans down Louis’s hips.

Harry pulls back suddenly and Louis opens his eyes to see Harry wincing, having strained his shoulder.

“Shit. Maybe we shouldn’t do this.” Louis says.

“No,” Harry says, pain leaving his face and being replaced with determination. Harry undoes his own jeans and shoves them to the floor, taking his boxers with them. He crawls past Louis onto the bed, sitting back against the headboard, completely bare except for his bandage. “We’re doing this.”

Louis lets out a shuddering breath as he stares at Harry’s bare body. Every single inch of him is muscled, his brown hair mussed and falling a little past his shoulders. Louis’s gaze drifts past the ends of it and down Harry’s solid chest and past his stomach to where he’s hard and throbbing. Louis looks up and meets Harry’s eyes that are blown wide as he just stares back at him.

“Okay.” Louis says, removing his own clothes. He tumbles back onto the bed and climbs up to straddle Harry, not caring if he’s graceful or not.

He slots their mouths back together and slides against Harry. Harry’s hands come up to grip Louis’s hips and tug him closer, he lets out a small moan as Louis nips down his jaw and latches onto his unbandaged collarbone. Louis takes pleasure in the way Harry’s breathing shudders as they slide against each other. His words ghost over the shell of Louis’s ear when he says, “I need you to ride me.”

Louis gasps, releasing Harry’s golden skin from his mouth. “We would need something for that.” He whimpers. “I’d need lube, I’d have to open myself up.”

Harry brings Louis’s face up to kiss him again and Louis feels him reaching out blindly with his good arm to the table beside the bed. He brings his hand back as they break apart again and Louis sees that he has a small bottle of lube in it. _Thank god for Zayn and Liam_. They must’ve shown Harry where and what it was.

Louis goes to take it, but Harry uncaps it and spreads it on his own fingers. “I’ll do it.” He breathes. “I want to do it.”

Louis trembles, falling forward against Harry’s chest as Harry reaches around and grips his bum, sliding a slick finger over him, teasing it against Louis’s entrance. “ _Fuck.”_ He pants into the crook of Harry’s neck.

Harry bucks his hips up, his erection sliding against Louis’s as he pushes in a finger. Louis’s skin feels like it’s on fire as Harry moves his finger in and out and Louis wriggles against him, pushing back on Harry’s hand and sliding their cocks together at the same time. He can’t do anything but pant and moan into Harry’s neck as Harry adds a second finger.

“If you keep sliding against me it’s going to be over all too soon.” Harry’s voice is so deep and wrecked and Louis can feel the rumble in Harry’s chest. Louis tries his best to create space between them. It pushes him further onto Harry’s fingers just as Harry curls them up and Louis cries out.

“If you do that again it’ll be over before I can even get to slide down your cock.” Louis says, panting and pushing back harder.

Harry moans at that and slides his fingers in and out a few more times before risking a third. Louis leans forward for another kiss but ends up just breathing against Harry’s mouth as he’s opened.

When Harry finally withdraws his fingers, Louis quickly rises up and grabs Harry’s cock. He gives is a few tugs, making Harry squirm before he lines it up with his entrance and sinks down.

Harry squeezes his eyes shut and leans his head back as Louis circles his hips. Harry’s a bit bigger than Louis had thought and with every up slide his head rubs against Louis’s sweet spot. It’s not long before Louis’s head is thrown back and Harry is thrusting up to meet him. They’re so lost in the heat and the slick slide of passion that Louis isn’t prepared when he comes untouched. He cries out as fireworks burst behind his eyelids and he rides it out. Harry follows only seconds later and Louis squeezes around him as he pulses.

They’re both a sweaty, sticky mess and Louis rolls off and lays beside Harry on his stomach. He whispers Harry’s name a few times into the bedsheets as he’s coming down from his climax. He’s never felt so high after sex. He doesn’t know how he’ll ever do that again with anyone but Harry.  

The thought is sobering but Harry twines himself along Louis’s back after cleaning himself off, and Louis relaxes into him. Harry strokes Louis hair and down his sides with his good arm. He holds him so close, and treats him so tenderly as he cleans Louis too. Louis feels a tear slip down his cheek as Harry kisses the back of his neck.

Before he knows it he’s sniffling and Harry’s sitting them both up and pulling Louis to face him. He wipes Louis’s cheeks with a thumb and his eyes are pinched with worry. “What is wrong? Louis, Lou, what is it?”  Harry questions gently.

Louis feels more tears slide out and his face scrunches up. “I-I…I don’t want you to go.” He stutters.

“Go?” Louis watches Harry’s eyebrows knit together in confusion before his eyes widen. “I thought you understood.”

Louis blinks and sniffles, trying to stop crying. God, he feels so weak and embarrassed. “Understood what?”

Harry kisses under his eyes, then along his nose, down his chin and over Louis’s throat again, soothing him. “I gave you my sword, Louis.” He whispers into the hollow of Louis’s throat. “I told you I would only give up my sword to the one who becomes my priority.”

The tears slow but Louis stays quiet, still not understanding. Harry pulls back and presses their foreheads together.

“I love you, Louis. I gave you my sword because I love you, and I plan to be beside you, always. My duties as a Musketeer of the past are permanently over.”

Louis’s heart flips over in his chest and his breath rushes out of his lungs. If Harry didn’t have such a strong hold on him he’s sure he’d topple over. “What?”

Harry pulls back and makes sure to lock Louis’s gaze. “I said I love you. You are my true love.”

Louis surges forward and wraps his arms around Harry, squeezing as tightly as he can. “I love you, too.”

They stay like that for a few moments before Louis lets go and eases back. “Can you really stay for me though? Do you really want to?”

Harry lays down and pulls Louis down with him, tangling their limbs back together. “I told Zayn and Liam before they left that I did not want the counter spell. They agreed that I belong here now. With you.” Louis sighs against Harry, happiness flooding his chest, and Harry presses a kiss to Louis’s hair. “That is if you can stand to have your very own Musketeer at your side.”

Louis smiles. “I can think of a few reasons to keep you.”

He falls asleep, breathing evenly against Harry’s chest as the candles around them burn on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry follows Louis closely. He’s still not used to the big city, but he bears it in order to stay close to Louis.

He’s slowly adjusting to everything in the modern world. He’s learning how to use telephones, how to drive a car, and he still prefers his sword over his gun but he’s learned to use that too. Everything still feels like it goes too quickly at times and he gets overwhelmed a lot, but Louis is always at his side.

One of the first things Louis had done when they went back to London was to introduce Harry to his secretary, and show him the ways of the P.I. world. Louis figured what better way to keep Harry safe in the modern world than to officially make him his partner in solving crimes. Harry had gladly accepted the position.

He closes the office door behind him as he follows Louis out. Glancing back briefly to read the new lettering they’d just had put up. It officially reads: _Musketeer Investigations, it’s our duty to serve you._

Harry smiles as he reads it. Louis had thought it would make him feel better about no longer being a Musketeer, but the truth is, Harry is still a Musketeer. Only now he serves the one he loves. Nothing in this time or any other could make him happier.

Louis tugs on his coat. “Come on, Haz.” He says, using one of the many pet names they’ve developed. “Zayn and Liam are waiting, and I’ve got something to give you.”

Harry leans down and catches Louis’s lips briefly. “After you.”

They head down the back stairs to Niall’s Pub. Bar life was another thing Harry has had to adjust to. He follows Louis, holding hands, as they weave through the crowd and approach the booth where Zayn and Liam are waiting.

Niall comes over bringing them a tray of drinks. The bartender is a strange lad, he smiles at Harry and then tosses Louis a wink as he elbows the smaller man. “I see you’ve found yourself a partner in crime.”

Harry feel Louis squeeze his hand tighter and says, “Partner in solving crime.” Louis pauses and he and Niall share some kind of secret look. “Don’t you dare say I told you so, Horan.”

Niall lets out a loud guffaw and goes back to tend the bar, leaving Harry to wonder what that was about. He turns toward Louis to change the subject, “So what’s this big surprise you’ve been making me wait for?”

Louis smiles and digs in one of the many pockets of his ridiculous plaid coat.It was the first article of clothing Harry ever saw Louis in and he finds he’s rather fond of it. He pulls out a small box and places it in Harry’s hand. Harry sees Zayn hide a smile in his drink as he gently removes the lid.

Inside sits a set of two gold house keys on a ring, and Harry smiles and loops his finger through it, holding them up. Key shapes are so different now than they were in his time. “Keys? What do they go to?”

Everyone around the table smiles as Louis speaks, “There was a house further down the road from Liam and Zayn’s that got put up for sale.” Louis shrugs. “I figured since I’ve finally submitted to training, and the city is so hard for you to adjust to, why not move.We can always drive in for work. So I bought it.”

Harry feels his smile grow. “Really? You’d leave London for me?”

Louis smiles back and leans closer. “For you Harry, I’d send _myself_ through time.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> You made it to the end and didn't die, wilt, or accidentally launch through time. COngrAtS!!!!  
> Come talk to me at [bumstagram](bumstagram.tumblr.com)
> 
> FEEDBACK IS MORE THAN APPRECIATED, I pretty much live for it.


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